


I See Fire

by MooseKing, samwise_baggins, Steve-Bucky-Stucky (Chemical30)



Series: I See Dragons [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Deadpool (2016), Fantastic Four (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV), Political Animals
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, F/M, Graphic Sex, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-16 13:22:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 72,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11829609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseKing/pseuds/MooseKing, https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwise_baggins/pseuds/samwise_baggins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chemical30/pseuds/Steve-Bucky-Stucky
Summary: Steve, an elf, has always wanted to see the fabled dragons, rumored to have been hunted into extinction. He dares enter their domain where he meets Bucky, an actual dragon. But this isn’t all fairy tales and happy endings. Hydra, a group of humans bent on genetic control and manipulation, threaten the existence of all creatures, and it is up to an elf, a dragon, and a handful of other magically inclined creatures to put an end to the kidnapping, abuse, experimentation, and murder . . . if they can.





	1. I See Elves

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to our wonderful artist MooseKing for this gorgeous living art! Truly beautiful, as is the one on the next "chapter".

  
  
  
  



	2. I See Dragons




	3. I See Elves

“This is a really bad idea, Steve,” Sam whispered, his footsteps light on the soft forest floor despite the twigs and leaves that covered the ground. With only the moonlight to guide them any normal human would be stumbling around blindly, but Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers were no ordinary humans: they belonged to the Woodland Elves race. Unlike humans, elves could see clearly even in the dim lighting of night.

“Oh, come on, Sam,” Steve smiled, looking over at his best friend, “It’ll be fine. She just told us about the _dragons_ to scare us. Dragons can’t live in a castle.” The tall, muscular blond pushed forward, eager to reach the one place in the surrounding the forest they inhabited that he hadn’t explored.

“And you know this _how_?” Sam asked, his brown eyes flickering over to look at Steve.

“Well,” Steve shrugged, his lips pulling into a sly smirk, his bright blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight, “I guess I don’t know a lot about dragons, but aren’t they _big_? Too big to live in a castle.”

A twig snapped under Steve’s foot just as the two elves reached the edge of the forest. Crouching down behind a bush, Steve looked out at the clearing and the stone castle that sat on top of a cliff which overlooked the ocean. Even from where he crouched, Steve could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing against the rocky cliffside.

The castle itself wasn’t all that large; the dark stone nearly matched the color of the storm clouds which raged above them. Steve couldn’t see any signs of life surrounding the castle, nothing that would prove to him that a _dragon_ lived in there. There weren’t even any signs that anything lived in the castle: no soft orange glow from fires or lamps, no animals or produce to live off of. The only sounds to be heard were the steady waves crashing against the base of the cliff and the occasional squawk of a seagull.

Looking over to Sam, who had crouched down next to him frowning fiercely, Steve said quietly, “Doesn’t _look_ like any dragons live there.”

Sam looked at Steve, the slight point of his ears visible in the night, and then back out at the castle. “I don’t know, Steve . . . she _forbid_ anyone from going near that place . . . she doesn’t forbid us to do much. Maybe, just this once we should listen to her.”

“There isn’t even anyone in there, Sam,” Steve gestured to the building with a tilt of his chin. “But, you are more than welcome to stay here and keep watch.” He gave the other elf another smirk before stepping past the bush and towards the dark, eerie castle.

Steve could hear Sam grumble incoherently under his breath as the dark-skinned elf pushed to his feet to follow his taller friend. Steve simply shot a smile to Sam as he continued the trek up the grassy hill that led up to the castle. He never understood why they were told to avoid the lone castle; it was the only building within fifty miles of the forest. He was sure no humans lived there, at least not for centuries. Humans and _creatures_ hadn’t coexisted in many years; the forest was a safe place for creatures: as long as they didn’t hurt humans, humans couldn’t hurt them. The castle appeared to be deserted, cold, and Steve had been wanting to explore it for years. Sam had always talked him out of it, suggesting another place that they still hadn’t explored.

They had investigated most of the ruins and the caves, all the lovely sights the large forest had to offer. All that was left was the lone castle, the one place that they had been _forbidden_ to explore. Steve had to see it, he had to know what was so special about it, had to know why they’d been told dragons live there as a deterrent from entering the ancient building.

Steve made it to the large front door, made of thick, dark wood with iron door handles. He looked up at the wooden barricade; iron torch holders hung from either side of the door and it appeared they hadn’t been lit in quite some time.

Slowly, Steve lifted his hand and grabbed the handle. Chancing a glance over his shoulder to Sam, Steve released a breath before looking forward and pushing against the heavy door. Surprisingly, the door opened with ease, not even creaking as one might expect from such an old looking door. Obviously the door’s hinges had been oiled and oiled recently.

“Steve,” Sam whispered, brown eyes darting to look into the darkened room in front of them; even with their enhanced eyesight, the room was _dark_. “This is a bad idea. Let’s just head back, okay? Come on.” His voice took on a pleading edge that had Steve actually considering listening to his friend and turning back towards the safety of the forest.

Then all the years of watching the castle from afar, all the dreams he’d had of what exactly could be within these very stone walls had Steve shaking his head. Moving to enter the castle, his light-footed steps not making a sound against the hard flooring, Steve uttered back, his voice soft and kind, “You don’t have to come in with me, Sam. You can wait out here.” He could understand why Sam was hesitant, maybe even a little scared, and Steve would never _make_ Sam do anything he didn’t want to do.

The answering grumble of, “Yeah right, like I’m going to let you enter a creepy castle by yourself,” brought a smile to Steve’s lips.

Sam left the door open behind them, allowing the moonlight to spill into the space and cast the room in a soft blue glow. The first thing Steve saw was a staircase and a soft looking red rug with gold trim lining the center of the steps. At either side of the stairs, iron torches hung from the walls but, like the ones on the outside, they looked as if they hadn’t been used in years. The tall, vaulted ceilings arched over the entryway and Steve found himself oddly welcomed by it, even with the overall darkness of the room.

Continuing up, Steve was hit with a surge of heat once he made it to the top of the stairs. Eyebrows rising in surprise, the blond looked over to Sam, who seemed to have noticed the odd change in temperature as well. Down the hall, Steve could make out the flickering smolder of a fire as the flames leapt up the hall wall across from the room. He could hear the crackling and popping of sparks from fire being burned in what Steve could only assume was a fireplace.

“Steve,” Sam tugged on his friend’s thin linen shirt, “Someone lives here! We got to go, _now_!” 

Steve stood still, watching the orange glow that lit up the hallway, mesmerized by the heat that the fire gave out. “A fire in a fireplace shouldn’t give off that much heat,” Steve murmured in return; Sam’s plea of leaving had fallen on deaf ears.

“That’s what you’re concerned about? How warm the place is?” Sam snapped, his tone still barely above a whisper, “Come on, Steve, please! Your mother will kill _me_ if she finds out about this!”

Hushing Sam with a soft noise and a finger pressed to his lips, Steve pressed on, a moth drawn to a flame. Lanterns hung from the ceiling of the hallway and the walls were made of a smooth, light grey stone. Steve ran his fingers across the solid surface as he approached the room from which the fire came from, the stone was slightly cooler than the air around him.

As Steve neared the doorway of the room, he noticed that he could no longer hear Sam behind him. Looking back, he could see the other elf still hovering at the top of the stairs, Sam was nothing but a dark shadow in the glow of the fire. Steve turned back to the room and slipped inside, not insisting that his friend follow him further into the castle; the temperature increased rapidly as he entered the room. The heat, so much hotter than what the fire burning in the carved out fireplace could give out, had the blond thinking of only one thing: _dragons_.

He’d never actually seen a dragon before, they were very solitary creatures and, from what his mother had told him, quite violent, greedy and selfish. Steve had always been so captivated by the stories some of the elders in their village told of dragons. He’d always thought of them as powerful and free creatures, creatures that were unafraid to live by their own rules and travel across many lands without a single care in the world.

Steve looked around the room with rapt interest; it was decorated simply but homely. Red curtains bordered a window on the other side of the room; had it been day time, Steve would be looking out at the large expanse of the ocean. A red and gold couch was set up in front of the large fireplace; a book sat open and face down on the couch. On the wall to Steve’s side, there sat a large dark bookshelf full of novels and, upon closer inspection, Steve could tell by the creasing in their spines that the books had been well read.

As Steve ran his fingers across the soft leather of the books in front of him, he was suddenly wrenched back by his collar, whirled around and slammed back against the unforgiving wood of the bookshelf, making the elf let out a small yelp of surprise. Just as Steve’s back hit the shelving, the sky lit up with a flash of lighting and the windows shook with the violent roar of thunder.

Steve looked wide eyed at his attacker. The man’s sharp cheekbones and strong jaw were highlighted by the soft orange glow of the fire, casting shadows across some of the man’s other features. He’d pulled his hair back away from his face but several locks of his hair framed his face making him all that more alluring. However, what caught Steve’s attention was the man’s piercing grey-blue eyes narrowed in a harsh glare in Steve’s direction.

The attacker’s fists were clutching the fabric of Steve’s shirt tightly as he pushed the elf against the bookshelf. Steve noticed immediately that the man’s left hand seemed to be hidden by a silver glove. He felt surprised by the overall strength of the man and found himself actually struggling against the brunet’s grip.

“What are you doing here, Elf?” The brunet snarled. He was a few inches shorter than Steve and, because of their closeness, Steve had to look down to meet the man’s captivating eyes.

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes traveled down the lithe form of the man in front of him and caught on a patch of _something_ on the crook of the man’s neck. He couldn’t quite make it out in the flickering light of the fire; it was silver, the same color of the man’s glove. As the brunet shifted, the silver patch seemed to shimmer with flecks of red and black. Gasping, Steve’s eyes widened; the glove wasn’t a glove at all! The man’s hand was covered in scales and it seemed to travel all the way up to the base of his neck!

“You’re . . . you’re a dragon!” Steve stuttered, his eyes moving to look at the man’s face.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed more and another flash of lightning lit up the night, followed by the loud clap of thunder. Rain poured from the cloudy sky, spattering against the window. “That why you _broke_ into my home? Wanted to see a _dragon_?” the brunet snapped, baring his teeth in a vicious snarl.

“What?” Steve’s eyes widened, “I . . . no! That’s not - -” the elf struggled to explain himself, he _had_ broken into the castle, he _had_ continued to this room in hope of seeing the dragon he’d been warned lived here.

The dragon’s eyes flashed in anger; the loud thunder from the brewing storm actually made Steve jump slightly. He tightened his hold on Steve’s shirt and the blond swore he could actually _feel_ the heat radiating off the brunet’s hands.

“Well, you’ve seen me now.” The dragon’s pale eyes never left Steve’s bright blue ones. “Have you gotten your fill, Elf?”

Steve flushed, feeling mortified for his own actions. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if someone had snuck into his home in hopes of catching a glimpse of him as if he were some freakshow amusement. “I . . . I’m sorry . . .” Steve stammered lamely, unable to come up with a valid excuse as to why he’d be in the castle.

The dragon pushed Steve to the side, making the elf stumble a few steps before catching himself.

“You saw me,” the brunet growled, pointing to the doorway with his left arm, scales on his uncovered hand gleaming in the firelight. “Now, get out!”

Steve stood frozen to the spot, eyes wide, as he took in the full form of the dragon. The brunet’s entire body seemed to be coiled tight, ready for attack. Lean muscles shifted and moved with grace and power. “I . . . I - -” Steve wanted to express just how sorry he was for invading, for offending the beautiful creature.

“Get out!” The dragon snapped, his voice smooth and controlled despite the anger that was quite evident, “And take your friend with you!”

Steve opened his mouth to apologize once more but was cut off by another thunderous roar that shook the windows of the castle. He looked at the dragon, eyes wide; the dragon met his gaze, his own eyes narrowed in a vicious glare. “Are you deaf, Elf?” He growled, snarling angrily, “I told you to _leave_!”

Knowing there was nothing for him to say, nothing that could make up for his actions, Steve scurried from the room. Sam, who must’ve heard the confrontation, was nearly at the room’s entryway; Steve grabbed his friend’s arm and hauled the other elf back and away, towards the front entrance they’d entered from. Sam, for his part, didn’t protest being manhandled out of the castle, but as soon as they made it back outside, he wrenched his arm free of Steve’s hold.

The rain was just as bad as it’d sounded inside the building; it came down in heavy sheets, soaking through the elves’ clothes within moments. Steve kept pressing on, towards the safety and cover of the forest. Sam followed close behind, though as soon as they made it to the treeline, he shouted over the heavy rain, “what the hell happened, Steve? I heard shouting and then we were running out of there!”

Shaking his head, Steve leaned against a thick tree trunk, running his fingers through his drenched hair, making it stick up wildly. The blond looked over at the castle as another flash of lightening lit up the sky, followed by the loud roar of thunder. “A dragon, Sam. I saw a dragon,” _and he was beautiful_ , Steve wanted to add but he kept that part to himself.

Sam’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a flash of fear flickering through his brown eyes, “you mean . . . a _real dragon_? In that castle?”

Pushing off the trunk, Steve started walking deeper into the forest, Sam falling into step next to him. “Yeah, a _dragon_ , Sam. You should have seen him . . . his scales . . .” Steve let his sentence trail off, the dragon’s piercing blue eyes . . . the burning heat that the man had given out distracting him for a moment.

Looking over at his friend, Sam shook his head, “man, we’re lucky to get out alive! Dragons are violent and territorial!”

“He let me go . . .” Steve mused out loud. Sam was right, dragons _were_ territorial, or at least, that’s what Steve had been told. Yet, the dragon hadn’t killed him for trespassing, had let both him and Sam go. Sure, he’d been very angry, but he hadn’t even attempted to hurt Steve, even when he had the opportunity to.

“Yeah? Well, let’s not give him a chance to regret that,” Sam said firmly, looking in front of him as the two elves traveled through the thick forest. By that time, the rain had lessened to a light drizzle; it seemed that the further they got from the castle, the lighter the rain. “We explored the castle, you saw a _dragon_ , let’s not go back, okay?”

The thought of not returning, of not being able to apologize and make up for his behavior, caused a spike of despair to grip Steve’s heart. He’d offended such a beautiful creature and wanted nothing more than to return to the castle and make up for it. However, Steve knew his best friend was right; more likely than not; if Steve returned to the castle . . . the dragon wouldn’t be so merciful. “Yeah, Sam, we won’t go back,” Steve conceded with a sigh.

Sam nodded once; they didn’t speak for the rest of the walk back to their home, their footsteps silent on the soft, mossy floor.

**************

The Woodland Elves were the largest and most secluded of the elven folk; they mostly kept to themselves and hardly left the forest in which they inhabited. The forest was bountiful and gave them all they needed to live; most of the elves saw no reason to travel far, content to eat the berries and nuts that were easily found in the trees and bushes near the village. Their homes, carved and built into the large, tall trees of the forest, made it hard for enemies to attack them, since they always had the upper hand by having a higher vantage point. Although they hadn’t been attacked in over twenty years, the last attack by hunters had been bloody - - but the Woodland Elves had prevailed, and it seemed the hunters didn’t want to test their luck with another attack and risk losing more members. It was in that attack that Steve lost his father, and his mother, Sarah, had taken over the role of leader. She had been the one to convince their people to stay within the confines of the forest.

Steve nodded to the guards, brandishing long spears, by the entrance to one of the inner staircases that would lead to the homes on the upper levels. The guards nodded in return to the two elves coming back from their explorations and stepped aside, letting Steve and Sam begin the ascent to the tops of the trees. Two more guards waited at the top; one firmly said, “Steve, Sam, follow us please.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see Sam straighten, his brown eyes widening ever so slightly. The blond knew what his friend thought: somehow Sarah must’ve found out about them exploring the castle, the one place which they were forbidden to enter. Taking a deep breath, Steve nodded once and followed the two guards, Sam trailing close behind. Steve noticed that there seemed to be no signs of rain, not even a faint trace of the violent storm that had rolled in quickly near the castle. For some reason, Steve found himself missing the rain, missing the loud claps of thunder and the storm clouds that reminded him so much of the dragon’s eyes.

They weaved through the crafted bridges and rooms carved into the large trees of the forest, a maze they would very easily get lost in had they not grown up there. The entire village, when night fell, was lit by earthly stones that gave off a bright, bluish glow; the elves didn’t need much light to see after all, giving them that advantage if an enemy chose to attack during the night hours. The pair kept walking until they reached the largest room in the village. Carved and crafted in and around the largest trunk of the entire forest was what most people would call a throne room. On the other side, opposite of the handcrafted entryway made of braided wood and vines was a large chair made of the same wood and vines.

Upon entering the room, a woman, whose blond, nearly white, hair was pulled back elegantly in her usual braids, stood and offered Steve and Sam a smile. Her small frame moved with a grace and fluidity that could be considered mesmerizing to most people. At her smile, Steve instantly relaxed; Sarah would not be smiling had she known what her son had just been up to.

“Steve,” Sarah looked at her son, taking in his drenched attire, “you are soaked!”

Laughing softly, Steve nodded, “we got caught in a storm, it seemed to move quite fast.”

“Ah, well,” Sarah nodded, accepting that answer; she knew of her son’s expeditions and he often returned dirty and tired from his travels. “Please, do get cleaned and change before our guests arrive.”

That caught Steve by surprise, _guests_? There hadn’t been guests in their village in years, since Steve was a boy. “Guests, Mother? And who is visiting?”

“The leader and his close circle of the Coastal Elves will be spending some time with us, dear,” Sarah looked at her son warily, “I did tell you some days ago, don’t you remember?”

Blinking, Steve thought for a few moments before finally nodding; Sarah had said something about the Coastal tribe of the elven folk paying them a visit. “Yes, I do remember, it must have escaped my mind.”

Sarah nodded, pleased, “right, now, you and Sam must go get ready. They will be arriving sometime soon.”

“Yes, of course,” Steve nodded and turned on his heel, taking Sam’s bicep in hand and tugging the other elf out of the room, towards their sleeping quarters.

Most of the elves slept in a shared sleeping hall on mats made of moss and vines, but, one of the benefits of being the leader’s son, Steve had his own room which he chose to share with Sam. So, instead of one large bed, which was what he’d had before he and Sam had become close friends, the room had two smaller beds. The room was decorated with various treasures that they’d collected from their travels. Once in the relatively private room, there were no doors in the village except for the strategy room which hadn’t been used in years, Sam turned to look at his friend as he stripped off his soaked linen shirt.

“Do you remember why the Sea tribe is coming? I remember her telling me something about this, but none of the actual details,” Steve said, taking off his own shirt and heading over to his chest to grab one of his nicer shirts and trousers; while he was crouched down, the blond moved over to Sam’s trunk and threw his friend a nicer outfit as well.

Catching the clothes that were thrown his way, Sam shook his head, “no, I’m just as much in the dark as you are on this one, Steve. But,” Sam stepped behind the changing wall, “it has to be very important. I don’t think the Woodland tribe and the Sea tribe have ever met together before . . . we both keep to ourselves.” As Sam talked, Steve quickly changed into the soft, thin clothing that was very common for his people; he pulled on his soft leather boots and finished it with a light leather vest that he kept open over his dark green linen shirt. “So, whatever is bringing them _here_ , it’s gotta be big.”

“Well, there hasn’t been an attack for years, so it isn’t war,” Steve ran his fingers through his short blond hair, ruffling it and shaking out the last of the water.

Sam stepped from behind the changing wall, dressed in an outfit similar to Steve’s, though instead of green, the dark-skinned man wore a deep maroon shirt. Sam opened his mouth to reply only to snap it shut when a guard appeared by the opened doorway.

Looking at Steve, the guard said, “your mother sent me for you two, Steve. The guests have arrived, they are being taken to the meeting room. We are to meet them there.”

Steve nodded once and turned to follow the guard out of the room, Sam following close behind. They were led back to the same room they had just been in, except this time, some of the influential members of their tribe stood by the throne where Sarah sat, looking poised and welcoming. Steve and Sam walked over, taking their places by the their leader as they all waited for their guests to be brought in.

Moments later, several of their guards led a small group of elves, no more than twenty, into the room. Steve looked over the new group with curious eyes; he’d never seen an elf from the Sea tribe before. Much like themselves, the other elves walked with grace and power, though Steve thought their movements were more fluid; _like water_ , Steve thought absently. One of the main differences Steve could spot by just looking at them: the Sea elves’ skin held a darker tone, as if they spent a lot more time in the sun. Also, they all dressed in light blues and seafoam greens, unlike the darker, earthier colors of Steve’s tribe.

Standing gracefully, Sarah greeted the guests with a kind, warm smile, “welcome, it is an honor to finally meet you face to face, Harrison.”

A tall, built man with sandy blond hair stepped up from the front, meeting Sarah after only a few steps. The man’s blue eyes were friendly as he matched Sarah’s smile, “the honor is mine, Sarah. It is about time our two tribes became one.”

Frowning ever so slightly, Steve shot Sam a confused glance out of the corner of his eye. _Became one?_ What was that supposed to mean?

Sarah smiled brighter and nodded, “yes, we have spent too many years living apart, it is time to coexist as one race.” She gestured at Steve, beckoning her son to step forward. Steve stepped closer to his mother, trying to keep his confusion out of his expression.

Harrison made the same gesture to a woman that stood a few steps back. The woman’s long blond hair was half down, cascading past her shoulders while some was pulled back in a series of intricate braids with various blue and white flowers embedded in the braids. She wore a light blue dress, made of a material that matched her eyes and looked just as light and soft as Steve’s own clothes. She met Steve’s eye without a hint of shyness, her chin held up and shoulders pulled back proudly.

“Steve,” Sarah looked at her son, smiling brightly, though he could see a hint of wariness in her eyes, “this is Sharon,” she took a breath and then let it out, “your betrothed.”

**************

Steve didn’t know how long he stared at his mother and then Sharon, he was sure his attempts at covering his shock at his mother’s words weren’t successful because Sharon’s eyes seemed to soften and she gave Steve a gentle, reassuring smile.

“Hello, Steve,” She never took her eyes off the tall blond frozen in shock, “I have heard much about you, it is nice to finally put a face to the name.”

It took a moment for Steve’s mind to reboot before he could answer, forcing a smile on his face, “it is a pleasure to meet you . . . Sharon,” he glanced at his mother and then back at the young woman. He hadn't even seen this coming; his mother had made no indication that _this_ was the reason behind their guests coming to pay them a visit.

Sharon nodded, not once did she lose her gentle smile, though it was obvious that Steve hadn’t been informed of their engagement beforehand.

There seemed to be a few moments of awkward silence before Harrison cleared his throat and said, “it has been a long journey here. Is there a place for me and my people to rest, Sarah? We can all get to know one another tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.”

“Of course,” Sarah nodded, motioning for the guards, “we have set aside several rooms for you and your people. Steve,” she looked at her son, “would you be so kind as to lead Sharon to her room so she can rest,” Sarah left no room for Steve to argue.

After being told where Sharon would would be staying, Steve nodded and bowed politely at the shoulders before holding out his arm for Sharon to link her’s through. The blond still looked a bit shocked, as if the news slowly sank in. He guided Sharon through the village, chatting politely, until they reached her room. Like all the other ones, it didn’t have a door, but the bathing chambers, one of the only room’s with such a luxury, was closed off from unwanted eyes. It wasn’t until they reached the doorway that Steve realized that they’d been followed as a body crashed into Steve’s back.

“Oh!” A masculine voice called out from behind Steve, “excuse me, I was distracted!”

Turning, Steve’s eyes widened at the sight of a lean man with sharp features and blue eyes. By looking at him, Steve could tell he was a Nymph. The Nymph was only dressed in a pair of thin brown leather pants - - even his feet were bare. Steve knew most Nymphs wore little to no clothing most of the time, so the blond assumed he dressed for the new, colder climate. A braided leather necklace with a pale blue stone, almost tight enough that Steve thought it could be uncomfortable, was the only other thing the Nymph wore. Sharon laughed softly, eyes kind as she took in the young man, “Steve, this is Neal, he is my companion. A friend, really, but he helps me throughout my day.”

Neal smiled, a bright, beautiful smile that almost made Steve forget about his own problems for a moment. He couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate the pretty man; the Nymph was taller than the average of his species and, though he was small, Steve knew he wasn't _weak_. Neal’s body was toned with lean muscle, and Steve could tell by the way the Nymph held himself that he was trained to fight, to protect Sharon at all cost. A lion in sheep's skin.

“You had no idea we were coming, did you, Steve?” Sharon asked softly, blue eyes flickering to look over at Neal and then back at Steve. “What was happening between our two tribes?”

Steve tore his eyes from the sight of the Nymph and looked back at the Sea elf. Running a hand over the back of his neck, He tried to think of something to say that didn’t sound rude. Finally, he settled on agreeing, “I guess I never asked what might be happening, just accepting a visit from our Sea relatives.”

Nodding, accepting that without a hint of embarrassment or anger, Sharon smiled at Steve, “well, things could be worse, right? At least our tribes are coming together for a wedding and not an act of war. There have been whispers,” the woman lowered her voice and leaned in closer, “that Hydra is rising once more.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard whispers, too,” Steve sighed. “Sharon?” He flushed slightly and pushed on, “are you, um . . . looking forward to marrying?”

Sharon’s eyes darted to glance over at Neal before meeting Steve’s once more. She sighed and bit her bottom lip, “I am . . . honored to do what is needed of me to help bring our people together.”

Nodding, Steve softened his voice and asked, “but are you . . . pleased by marrying a stranger chosen for you?”

“No,” Sharon answered honestly, keeping her voice just as quiet as Steve’s, “pleased is not the word I’d use.”

Nodding, Steve looked around then gestured towards one of a pair of chairs. “Please sit? We should discuss our future if we’re going to go through with these plans for our people.”

Sighing, Sharon nodded, moving to sit down on one of the chairs, “I take it you aren’t _pleased_ by this arrangement either, Steve.”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t even warned my mother might be considering choosing a mate for me. If she had, I would have warned her.” He sighed.

“Warned her? About what?” Sharon tilted her head slightly, watching Steve closely.

Steve met her eyes and, still very softly, answered honestly, “that I am not interested in females, Sharon. Not reproductively.”

“Oh,” Sharon looked a bit surprised, “that is . . . troublesome. Is there . . . someone? That other elf you were standing with, perhaps?”

“Sam?” Steve shook his head, “what a convenient excuse, right? But no, Sam’s my best friend and shares my quarters, but we’re not lovers. I think others believe we are, and Sam lets that go, but no, not Sam.”

“But there is _someone_ ,” Sharon pressed, leaning forward on her elbows, looking curious.

Opening his mouth to deny the charge, Steve stopped at an image of pale eyes filled with danger, of silver chasing down a sleek form . . . and Steve felt a jolt right through him. He flushed darkly and dropped his eyes.

“There _is_ someone!” Sharon beamed happily, though she kept her voice low; she talked with Steve like one would speak to an old friend, not a practical stranger, “do tell, Steve! Is he part of your tribe?”

“No,” Steve’s whispered the word.

“And that is why you are afraid to tell your mother of him? Afraid she won’t approve?” Sharon asked. It wasn’t uncommon for people of the same genders to lie with one another, especially in the elf culture, so Sharon couldn’t see Sarah being upset over that detail.

Drawing a deep breath, glancing over at the nymph nearby, Steve looked back at Sharon and leaned in close. “He’s not an elf, Sharon. Mother would never understand.”

“And neither is the man I love,” Sharon said softly, “so, I know how you feel. Father wouldn’t approve of my relationship with a Nymph,” she let that statement sink in.

Steve glanced back at Neal, who remained impassive looking and standing respectfully by the open doorway. Looking back at Sharon, Steve nodded. “So, what do we do? Do we try to fight this betrothal and risk whatever comes with it, or do we allow the wedding and remain without our chosen mates and loves? Or . . .” he left that open so she could add anything she might think of.

“Well,” Sharon took a deep breath and released it before continuing, “maybe we can try getting our parents to see reason? That love is not something that can be chosen for us.”

“Perhaps there are two members of our tribes who wouldn’t mind being joined? I might be able to convince Mother to give someone an appropriate rank who would be willing to unite our tribes?”

“You have a brother, do you not?” Sharon asked, proving just how much she’d already known about Steve’s tribe.

“Yes, but I doubt Johnny would be willing to join our tribes. He’s long insisted he’ll not link himself with any one woman,” Steve shook his head. “What about you? A . . .” he thought for a bit about the political structures and families in the various Elvish cultures and said, “a cousin?”

“I do have several cousins,” Sharon nodded, tapping her chin in thought, “maybe one of them will be willing to marry one of your tribe members. I can think of one in particular that would be thrilled to do such an important task.”

Steve offered his pretty smile unaware of it’s possibly devastating effect since he mainly kept male company and felt they merely teased him about his prettiness. “Now, we need to ask if our parents would agree to this. I think a happy couple would be better for tribal unity than an unhappy one.”

“I agree,” Sharon nodded, matching Steve’s smile, “I will speak with my father in the morning, but,” she stifled a yawn behind her hand, “I do believe I need rest. It was a _long_ journey.”

“Then, please, forgive my anxiety that kept you from your sleep. I’ll leave you to rest.” Steve stood and bowed to her then turned and bowed to Neal in equal respect, eliciting a startled look then a smile and head bow from the nymph. Steve let himself from the room without waiting for a response, apparently taking the woman’s last words as a dismissal.

Striding quickly down to his mother’s rooms, Steve organized his thoughts in his head. He knew his mother would be awake still, they hadn’t had to travel a long distance, so he could most likely find her awake. Outside Sarah’s quarters, Steve knocked on the beautiful carved wooden doorway, calling through the open door, “Mother? Are you available?”

“Come in, Steve,” Sarah called back, tone happy though a hint of worry seeped through.

Obeying his mother, Steve walked into the room and over to his parent. He paused then sank to the floor at her feet, sitting cross-legged as he used to when a little boy. “Mother, may we talk, please?”

Looking unsurprised, Sarah nodded and sank down in front of her son, sitting in the same manner, “Sharon is lovely, isn’t she, Steve?”

“Quite aesthetically pleasing,” Steve chose his words carefully, trying to make a gentle point before he had to reveal his deepest feelings. He found it easier to tell a stranger, like Sharon, than to tell his beloved mother about his heart’s desires.

“But . . .” Sarah drawled, watching her son expectantly, not at all annoyed or angry.

“But Sharon is female,” Steve said, leaving it at that brief explanation for the moment, watching his mother carefully.

“She is,” Sarah confirmed with a nod after only a moment’s pause, “and I take it this is a problem?”

“Mother, I’m afraid that no matter who I marry, offspring won’t be a result, therefore this tribal union would be barren.” He flushed, finding this as hard as he dreaded. Where were the easy words that had come when with Sam or Sharon?

“You like males,” Sarah said after a moment; she appeared surprised, “I am sorry, my dear! I would’ve tried to find you someone that was more appealing to you had I known!” She looked genuinely apologetic.

Nodding, Steve reached out and took Sarah’s hands. “There are so many things I want to say, but the words are tangling.” He sighed and thought for a moment. Finally, Steve raised his sapphire eyes to meet his mother’s. “Sharon and I were discussing this, actually. We may have found a solution if you and Harrison agree.”

“And what solution would that be?” Sarah asked with a proud smile, loving how her son had gotten straight to solving a problem when he saw it.

“We ask for a volunteer to unite the tribes and promote that man or woman to an appropriate political rank to reflect the diplomatic status of the union?” Steve presented the idea.

“That is a great idea, Steve,” Sarah smiled, eyes bright, “I just need to clear it by Harrison, though I do not think he’d argue.”

“Sharon offered to discuss it with him in the morning. She even has an idea which of her cousins may be interested in a political union more than a love match, Mother,” Steve informed her.

Sarah nodded, “that’s good,” she squeezed Steve’s hands.

Nodding, Steve let his shoulders slump just a bit, as if allowing tension from his body, before he tensed once more as if for battle. “Mother?” Steve’s voice dropped softer, “what does being in love feel like?”

Looking surprised, Sarah met her son’s eyes, “it is a hard feeling to describe, Steve. One simply . . . _knows_. Like,” she paused for a moment, as if thinking over her next words, “like you cannot imagine your life without that person in it.”

A bitter laugh broke from Steve and he dropped his eyes, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not an option.”

“What do you mean, Steve? Have you been seeing someone?” Sarah asked softly, tilting her head slightly. “Is it . . . Sam?”

“No,” Steve’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s not Sam.”

“Then who?” Sarah asked, “I don’t see you with anyone else.”

“I only just met him, actually,” Steve sighed and ran his hand over his neck. “And I want to . . . want to be near him again. I . . . even when I barely met him, I wanted to just sit with him and just _be_ there. But,” Steve shook his head, “he wants nothing to do with me, of course, and . . . and I shouldn’t go near him.”

“Why do you think he wants nothing to do with you?” Sarah asked her son.

Steve couldn’t bring himself to meet his mother’s eyes, unsure how much he could tell her, since he’d broken _her_ decrees. Finally, he settled on saying, “because he told me so?”

Sarah was quiet, thoughtful, for a moment before saying, “Are you sure that’s what he said? Or is that what you _think_ he said? What did you do that made him want nothing to do with you?”

Steve lifted his eyes, looking worried and nervous and miserable. “I broke the law.”

“You broke the law?” Sarah echoed looking confused, “you don’t break the law, you leave that up to your younger brother.”

“In my explorations of our lands and those neighboring it, I came across an interesting dwelling and was curious as to who lived inside. So, without invitation, I entered. The person living there was at home and very angry. He sent me away, of course . . . and that’s how I know he wants nothing to do with me.” Steve sighed.

“For one, I am appalled you entered someone’s home without being asked,” Sarah admonished with a soft frown.

Nodding in agreement, Steve let her continue without protest or defense.

“But, if you really feel connected to this man,” Sarah continued, “maybe you could go and apologize to him? Without entering his home again, uninvited, try knocking this time.”

Sighing softly, Steve maneuvered so that he was leaning over, able to lay his head on his mother’s shoulder. “He’s not Elvish, mother.”

“Just because he is not Elvish does not mean you cannot love him, Steve,” Sarah reassured her son.

Without comment, Steve nodded but didn’t lift his head. Instead he turned his face so he buried it in his mother’s neck, fighting and losing against the sudden tears. “Sometimes I wish Father were still here.”

Sighing, Sarah wrapped her arms around Steve and kissed the top of his head, “I know, Steve. Me too. But, I know he’d very proud of who’ve you become, Steve.”

“I think he’d be very displeased with my reckless, thoughtless behavior today. And that I forced Sam to accompany me.” Steve sighed once more.

“I doubt you _forced_ Sam to do anything,” Sarah said with a soft laugh, “and it’s often the reckless behavior that makes the most difference. Your father was the most reckless man I’ve ever met.”

“And was killed for it,” Steve lifted his face, a frown about his eyes and mouth.

“Yes, and he was killed for it,” Sarah echoed on a sigh, “but he saved two children. They are able to live full lives because of his sacrifice.”

“Protecting two children? That’s not what I was told,” Steve frowned, looking more puzzled than upset.

“Ah,” Sarah nodded, “well, that is a story for another day, Steve.”

“Chester said he was killed by dragons, Mother,” Steve referred to the grizzled head of security for the tribe.

Sarah’s eyes hardened slightly, “he _was_ killed by dragons, protecting two children. That is all I wish to speak of it tonight.”

“Of course,” Steve dropped his head into a bow of respect. He stood and bowed at the shoulders, not challenging his mother. “Good night, Mother. I love you.” Steve turned for the doorway.

“Good night, Steve. I love you, too,” she called back as she rose from the floor.

Steve left his mother’s rooms and headed back to his own, barely acknowledging those he passed on the way, he was so distracted by his thoughts. Entering his own rooms, Steve started pulling off his dress shirt, frowning.

“Well, you don’t look happy,” Sam drawled from where he lay on his bed.

Startling, Steve whirled and sighed, tossing his shirt to a chair and missing. He didn’t go pick it up. “Were you aware that Mother planned a betrothal for me?”

“No, remember I said I had no idea why the Sea tribe was coming,” Sam sat up, watching his friend with a soft frown, “I was just as shocked as you . . . well, maybe not _just as_.”

Nodding, Steve sank onto his bed. “If Harrison agrees to our suggestions, Sharon and I have arranged to get out of the betrothal.” Shaking his head, Steve added, “and you won’t get in trouble for today. I already told mother and took the blame.”

“Well,” Sam shrugged, “as long as we aren’t going back, that’s fine by me.”

“No,” Steve stood and turned his back to unfasten his trousers and slide them off, “I do not expect you to go back, Sam.”

“But . . . why do I sense there is a _but_ coming? You can’t seriously be thinking about going back there!” Sam looked shocked, though he kept his voice down.

Glancing over his shoulder, dressed only in his smallclothes, Steve shook his head. “No _but_ , Sam. I _am_ going back, on mother’s suggestion.” He reached for his night clothes.

“She knows you met the _dragon_? And she’s okay with that?” Sam asked incredulously.

Whirling, Steve harshly whispered, “hush!” He walked to the door and looked out then turned back to Sam. “Of course not! I didn’t tell her _which_ home I broke into! Just that I broke into one without your approval and met the person living there. He kicked me out and I was regretful.” Steve sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck.

“But why do you wanna go back? No offense, but I doubt the guy wants to see you. We did break into his house after all,” Sam pointed out with a frown.

“Mother said I should knock and apologize,” Steve answered.

“And pray he doesn’t _eat you_?” Sam asked.

“I would die happy,” Steve murmured, unaware he spoke out loud.

“You’d be happy that he ate you?” Sam shook his head, “please tell me you’re at least getting some sleep before going off and getting eaten by an angry dragon.”

“What? Should I go back tonight do you think?” Steve looked at Sam, eyes serious, a soft frown on his face. “Are dragons nocturnal? Would he be more receptive if I didn’t interrupt his sleep?”

“I don’t know!” Sam huffed in exasperation, “it was raining pretty hard when we left. Give it the night to calm down at least . . . let _him_ calm down.”

Throwing his hands in the air, Steve said with some exasperation, “I’m not going back _this_ night, Sam. I was wondering if going at night, _any_ night, was better. If dragons sleep during the day, I shouldn’t break his rest to apologize.”

“Ask your brother,” Sam grumbled, “he knows more about that stuff. I never wanted to learn about dragons, myself. Of course, Johnny’s been gone how long now?”

Steve sank back onto his bed. “Johnny’s rarely home. I think it’s been almost a year this time.”

“What about Chester? That guy seems to know stuff,” Sam supplied.

“Chester? The only thing about dragons Chester ever has to say is that Father was killed by dragons.” Steve threw himself back onto his bed, glaring up at the interwoven branches of the ceiling of his room.

“I don’t know what to tell you Steve, aside from _not_ bothering the dragon again, but I doubt you’ll listen to _that_ advice,” Sam settled back in his bed.

“He was . . . so . . .” Steve fell silent, his tone wistful and lost, “so . . . beautiful and free . . .”

“Whatever you say,” Sam rolled his eyes, “just be careful, okay? I’m serious, Steve.”

Rolling to his side, head propped on his hand, Steve asked, “when you say you’re sorry for breaking into a house, what’s an appropriate apology gift?” The blond looked serious.

“Flowers?” Sam offered with a shrug, “that place could use a little life.”

“Flowers? So, I should show up at midnight during a full moon with an armful of night-blooming flowers for the dragon, knock, and tell him I’m sorry for breaking in during the day?” Steve asked softly, once more rolling to his back.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” Sam grumbled, “we gotta work on your delivery for jokes.”

Steve threw his friend a wide grin and a chuckle. “You fall for it every damn time, Sam. You take _everything_ so seriously! Really, you need to find yourself some playful, fun-loving young lover to lighten your heart.” Turning over, Steve asked, “would you be willing to marry with someone of the Sea elf tribe? We’re looking for a volunteer.”

“If no one else volunteers, sure,” Sam shrugged.

Pausing, Steve studied his friend then smiled slowly. “You, Sam, are one of the finest Elves a guy could know. I’ll see if someone else wants to volunteer, but will keep your service in mind if needed. Whoever agrees to the wedding gets promoted to diplomat.” Steve knew that great honor and pride accompanied being a diplomat, as well as great responsibility and trust.


	4. Injuries and Guests

A loud knocking outside Sarah’s chambers broke her sleep, as it was still several hours before dawn. “Sarah!” the guard called loudly, “Sarah, please. Your son has returned!”

Blinking awake, Sarah sat up quickly, eyes easily adjusting to the darkened space, “Johnny? He’s home?”

“Yes, Sarah, Johnny’s in the healer’s room. He returned not ten minutes ago,” the guard answered.

Getting up and pulling on a thin robe over her nightgown, Sarah looked at the guard, not bothering to put on shoes as she headed out of her chambers, “healer’s room? How badly is he injured?”

Trotting just behind the Elfish ruler, the guard shook his head. “I haven’t heard, Sarah. As soon as we realized _who_ entered, I came to awaken you.”

Nodding, Sarah headed towards the room where her son was, worried about Johnny’s health. It had been nearly a year since she’d last seen her youngest son.

The tall, lean Elf stood, leaning against a waist-height bed, working on something on the pallet. His hands and arms were covered in blood, and he seemed engrossed in his work, his hands moving quickly. A healer stood on the other side of the bed, apparently frustrating the dark-haired, bearded Elf. Normally Johnny appeared as clean shaven and blond as any of his family, but when he traveled in human lands, he often used enchantments to disguise his features. The injuries must have been very emergent if Johnny hadn’t even discarded his disguise yet.

“Johnny?” Sarah called, stepping into the room. If Johnny wasn’t the one on the bed . . . who was?

Not even looking over, Johnny called, “Mother, did I wake you? No, you foolish clod! Don’t tighten it! Cut it off if you must!” The sudden frustration shifted to a soothing croon, “rest now, little one. You’re safe with me.”

Sarah stepped closer to her son and whoever was injured on the pallet. Her eyes widened in shock as she was met with the sight of a small fox, it’s dark blue-tinted brown fur was matted with blood from an open wound that looked to be going into the early stages of infection.

Johnny rapidly attempted to untie and cut off vines and brambles and even bits of cloth or leather tangled around the creature to get to the wounds, as well as allow free circulation. “Not his _leg_ , clod! Cut the _vines_. Leave the fur if possible, he needs that!” Johnny kept interfering with the attempted actions of the healer trying to work on the fox. “Mother, make her leave the leg!”

Looking at the animal that her son had taken an obvious attraction to, Sarah frowned; the poor thing was barely moving, it’s breathing shallow. “Johnny, honey, the wound is severe . . .” she knew her youngest son always had a soft spot for animals, was constantly bringing in strays in various health, trying to nurse them back to health, no matter how injured they were.

“Don’t let her take the leg, Mother!” Johnny ordered, a slight pleading tone hidden in the gruff dictate.

As if the fox on the table understood the words being spoken around it, it attempted to move, to kick away the healer’s hands and scurry closer to Johnny.

“Yes, there’s a lad,” Johnny crooned again. “I’ll keep you safe, little one.” Quickly, Johnny managed to cut off the last of the tangled cloth from the leg, one hand clamping securely over the gushing wound. “Mother! Please!” he begged suddenly, knowing she had the enchantments to replace lost bodily fluids, if she deemed it appropriate.

Sighing, Sarah looked at the animal in her son’s arms; the fox’s unusual pale eyes met the woman’s. She frowned and then nodded, “okay.”

“Thank you, Mother! From both of us.” Johnny moved the fox to his mother’s easy reach, still keeping his hand forcefully over the open wound to keep back as much of the bleeding as he could. Johnny was always rescuing injured animals, but he actually had little healing magic. His gifts compromised fire magic, self-camouflage, and flight, not healing.

Nodding, Sarah placed her hands over Johnny’s and pushed her healing energy into the fox, hoping that Johnny had managed the bring the poor creature in soon enough. As she healed the wound, she said, “this is . . . odd,” she looked down at the animal again; it was too weak to do anything more than meet her gaze.

“Odd? Not at all. I found him trying to hunt, but he wasn’t able to get strength or speed enough. I fed him and brought him here as quick as I could travel.” Johnny threw his beautiful smile at his mother, even if the beard hid the expression. “Thanks, Mother!”

Pulling away bloodied hands, Sarah pushed Johnny’s away so she could look at the wound, which had closed though the wound would still need some time to heal completely. “Take him to your room, Johnny, bathe him.”

“I removed the arrow first mother.” Johnny fumbled a bloody hand into his travel pouch and pulled out a cruelly barbed arrow head, caught between two fingers, and handed it over. “The wound kept weeping and bleeding. I think evil was in the tip.” Johnny lifted his eyes at last and looked at Sarah. “I found him near the caves in the western grove.”

Frowning, Sarah nodded, taking the barbed arrowhead and looking at it. She could feel the dark energy surrounding it, “I do believe you are right, Johnny. Someone probably put a curse on this to make the creature keep bleeding,” she looked down at the fox again, the animal’s breathing already beginning to recover, “odd coloring, is that white?” She leaned in closer to looked at it’s fur.

“Yes, Mother,” Johnny smiled, running bloodied fingers through the soft pelt; the fox nuzzled into Johnny’s touch. “He was near all white when I found him but the darker near-black’s been coming in all day. I suspect he’s a winter animal.”

Sarah watched the fox for a few moments, meeting the animal’s uncanny, almost human-like, pale blue eyes. “Why don’t you go get him cleaned up? I’ll make sure something is sent up for you both to eat.”

Nodding, Johnny ran his hands over the small fox again then moved away long enough to fashion a sturdy, yet soft-lined, cloth sling from materials at hand in the healer room. He carefully lifted the animal in his large hands and settled him on the cloth then wrapped the cloth upwards in a sling, tying the ends around his own neck. Straightening, Johnny threw his mother a smile and carefully leaned over to kiss her head. “Looks like I’m here as long as he needs me, Mother.”

“There are things we need to discuss, Johnny,” Sarah said, “we have more guests than just your . . . fox,” she looked at the animal, which had begun to nuzzle at Johnny’s chest, eyes closed in what appeared to be a contented expression.

Johnny reached into the sling to carefully thread his fingers through the long thick fur. “Of course, Mother. Once you’ve finished resting. I hadn’t wanted to wake you, but my enchantments don’t lie in blood-loss, even if I wish they did.” Smiling, Johnny left the healing room and headed up to his own quarters, unshared by any Elvish companion due to his long absences. As he climbed, he enjoyed the sight of the home he lived in, when he bothered to come home. It was so beautiful, so natural, and so serene and pretty. It almost made him wonder why he even wandered at all, but Johnny long knew _that_ answer. He didn’t feel drawn to mate with anyone present. He spent his time going to other elvish tribes to see if his mate was among the other Elves, and yet, he still never felt any desire to mate with any of the beautiful women and men he met. Some day he would find his mate and bring whomever it was to live with him here, in his beautiful home.

As more time passed, Sarah’s healing did wonders on the small fox in the makeshift sling, the mammal squirmed and nuzzled at Johnny’s chest.

With a soft cuckle, Johnny stroked the fox’s ears carefully and stepped into his room, actually sliding a woven curtain closed over the open doorway; Johnny had an enchantment of sound muffling over the curtain for added privacy, as well as something which blocked invasive monitoring spells. “All right, little one. We are safe until your food arrives.” He carefully removed the entire sling and laid it on his soft bed, unwrapping the fox to give it freedom. “I’m going to clean the blood from us both and we’ll see how well Mother’s enchantments have worked.”

The fox looked up at Johnny with it’s pale eyes, head cocked slightly and ears perked up like it listened to every word the elf spoke.

Bringing over a large bowl of water, Johnny set it on the nightstand. “I don’t have many enchantments I can work, and my water skills are weak, but they’ll do to keep the basin filled with fresh water and get rid of the dirtied.” Johnny reached a hand towards the bowl and flamed leapt out, warming the ceramic and the water inside.

At the flames the fox jumped slightly, scurrying a few steps back.

“Whoa, little one, don’t move that leg.” Johnny offered his non-magicked hand to stroke at the fox’s back. “I’d never flame you, my dear. Just those who thought to hurt such a pretty boy.” The fire went out and Johnny showed the undamaged limb to the fox. “See? I control fire and can fly, with my enchantments. Not the wider range most of my kin can produce. I’m considered relatively non-magic in my people.”

The fox blinked and then leaned closer, nose twitching as it sniffed at Johnny’s hand. After a moment of investigating the limb, the small animal slowly licked at the tips of the elf’s fingers.

Chuckling, Johnny slowly drew the hand back. “Much delight as you bathing me is, I’m to bathe _you_ , my dear.” He picked up a soft cloth and dipped it in the warmed water then began washing the fox’s fur free of dirt, blood, and who knew what else had accumulated for how long. “I see you’ve not been treated well,” Johnny’s smile dropped away as he spoke, his tone angry. “Whoever would cage and abuse such a creature deserves the same in return!”

Ears twitching, eyes watching Johnny’s every move, the fox didn’t interrupt the bathing. It sat still and moved only when the elf needed it to.

Smiling once more, Johnny leaned in and gently, very slowly, nuzzled his nose against the fox’s head fur. “You are indeed a beautiful boy, my dear. I’ll get you back to health and find you a safe haven for the rest of your days.”

The fox let out a delighted coo, the sound high pitched and so quiet that it could easily have been missed. It pressed its forehead against Johnny’s, nuzzling in return.

Smiling wider, Johnny pulled back enough to be able to finish his work. He cleaned all the white so it shone once more, and the brown so well it looked near blue-black. Finally, when the fox’s fur fell in soft, slightly damp waves, an unusual hint of curl to the locks, Johnny softly said, “now I know this is going to be very difficult, since you have little reason to trust anyone, but in order to make sure you heal well, you need to be totally clean, little one. I need to finish with your under parts.” Johnny let gentle fingers slide to just under the fox’s breastbone, hidden under his reclining body.

Cocking its head, the fox looked up at Johnny for a few moments before lying down and then rolling over on it’s back.

“What a clever boy,” Johnny praised in a gentle coo. He refreshed the water and cloth and began to wash the underside of the injured beast, finding more evidence of the abuses this fox had suffered for who knew how long. As he worked, Johnny was careful to keep his tone loving and gentle, his fingers kind even if he had to painfully untangle clotted, matted fur. Sighing, Johnny said, “I hate to cut such a wonderful pelt, but all this tugging must hurt so much.” He didn’t reach for anything to cut with, however, merely continuing to try to work the dirt and blood and debris from the thick fur.

The fox let out another quiet coo, as if giving Johnny permission to do what was needed.

Looking into those oddly pale eyes, Johnny paused a long moment then nodded. He had long been in tune with animals. “Very well, it will cause less pain and should grow back by next year’s cold season.” Johnny stood and walked to his vanity to retrieve his personal grooming supplies. He came back and began to carefully trim at the fur with his small scissors, making sure not to tug if possible. Once the largest clumps had been removed, the elf went on to carefully wet and soap the fox’s under parts to shave off the glorious, yet damaged fur, finally exposing all the old and fresh wounds on the bare skin below. Taking a steady breath, the elf reached over and very carefully, very gently, began removing the fur from the fox’s genitalia and anal areas, too, dreading the injuries he suspected might be there.

Confirming Johnny’s fears, it seemed like any skin the elf revealed was covered in painful looking scars. The fox held perfectly still, allowing Johnny to clean and shave it’s delicate areas.

“My poor little one,” Johnny crooned. “To be so hurt for so long. Here no one will ever touch you in anger or evil intent. I will keep you safe.” He carefully nuzzled at the head fur once more. “And I’ll insist to Mother, as well. I won’t have you loose in the wild unless you choose it, only to be captured and hurt once more.”

A knock on the outer doorway drew a startled yip and jump from the fox as it scurried off the bed and out of sight, hiding somewhere in the room.

Frowning that such would throw the injured fox into fear, and cause him to use that very injured leg, Johnny threw himself at the door and slid the curtain back, growling low, blue eyes snapping. “I hope it was necessary to scare that poor thing into reinjuring himself!”

An elf stood on the other side of the curtain, holding a tray full of different types of food, including meats which were uncommon for the elves, “your mother sent me.”

“You weren’t in serving duties last year when I was here, were you?” Johnny still growled, but toned his anger down for the younger Elf.

“No, Johnny, I was not,” the elf replied, eyes wide.

“If you are to serve me ever again, young one, you will remember to leave the tray outside the curtain and call softly that the item, whatever it is, is ready. I can hear everything beyond the curtain, even if you cannot hear inside to my sanctuary. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Johnny, I didn’t mean to scare anyone,” the young elf sounded apologetic.

“As long as we are clear on your duties, I thank you for the foods and any medicines you’ve brought. They are much needed. You may go back to your rest, young one.” Johnny bent and picked up the tray.

Bowing respectfully, the elf left without another word, disappearing around the corner.

Johnny straightened and slid the curtain closed once more with a sigh. He looked at the tray and noted the meats were cooked. He didn’t give any external clues as to how he felt about that, when foxes were known to eat raw meat. Instead, he turned and put the tray on the other bedside table and crooned towards the hidden fox. “He is gone now. He’s brought food for you, my dear. May I help you back into the bed to rest?”

There was a sound of something scooting against the floor on the other side of the room, under the wooden desk.

Getting up and moving quietly, but with enough sound the fox could hear him and wouldn’t be scared once more, Johnny walked over to the desk and knelt down, bending over to see under the wooden structure. He froze, sapphire eyes meeting pale blue. After a long moment, Johnny breathed out, “you are older than I expected, little one.”

Huddled under the desk, curled protectively around himself, was no fox, though the man still sported the ears and tail of the fox. His pale eyes were wide with fear and his whole body trembled as he attempted to push back even further under the desk until his back hit the wall, letting out a small, terrified keen.

“I know the natural state of a shifter is often the animal form, not bipedal, but is your’s in between?” Johnny asked gently, making no move to reach for the injured young male.

Blinking, the man, who looked to be in his late teen years, watched Johnny. In the dim lighting, Johnny could see that the shifter’s skin was marred with scars and much like the fur in his fox form, the man’s hair, ears, and tail were dark brown with various streaks of white.

Johnny continued to bend over and look at the fox-shifter. He still made no moves to reach for the frightened man. Instead, he offered a gentle, sad smile, “such a harsh lesson to learn, being seen and hearing, but never allowed to make your own noises. Here everyone has a voice should he choose to use it, my little one. Would you come out and let me tend you further? I have meat, though the fools cooked it, and I can see to that leg properly now the limb is bigger.”

The man scrunched his nose in a look of distaste when Johnny said the meat had been cooked but the expression quickly faded away.

Slowly, Johnny stretched out his hand, cool and calloused, and said, “do you need help getting yourself out from where you’ve managed to get in?”

Shaking his head, causing Johnny to withdraw his hand in respect, the man uncurled slightly and crawled out of the small space. Once out in the open, the man extended his neck and waited, holding perfectly still for the elf, except for the occasional twitching of his ears.

Nodding, Johnny reached over and caressed the skin of the fox-shifter’s neck gently, and softly said, “I can see the scars of heavy chains and biting collars, my dear. Are you so used to them for so long you expect me to repeat the treatment?”

“Not permitted this form without a collar,” the man said, his voice cracking and soft; it had been a while since he’d used it.

“Oh, what a beautiful voice you have,” Johnny praised with a smile. He let go the youth’s neck and headed to his clothes press, rooting inside. “Not a traditional collar, I might add, but it should do to calm you and make you feel back on firm footing. Being stripped of what you’re used to must make you feel uncertain and more frightened.” Johnny came back with a long weave of beautiful rope, made of hair and fiber, and used generally as a belt, he carefully placed it around the shifter’s neck and tied it loosely. “I trust you won’t need it tightened or is that too loose for comfort?”

Sitting back on his knees, seeming unaware or uncaring of the leg injury which had started to bleed again, the shifter cocked his head and looked up at Johnny with wide pale eyes. “Whatever you wish, sir.”

“I wish you to tell me if it hurts or feels too free. I want you to be comfortable in my rooms.” Johnny squatted down and began looking at the leg again. “If you wish discipline, I can dole that out, but at the moment, you have done nothing to warrant it.” The elf fell easily into the role of dominant with the fox-shifter, seemingly unphased by the responsibility either willingly or unwittingly placed in his hands.

“I . . .” a flicker of confusion crossed the man’s face, “do not know, sir.”

Nodding, accepting the answer readily, Johnny asked, “and while in my care, do I have say over what happens with you? Or do you wish to try telling _me_ what you think you need?”

“I am not permitted to speak desires,” the man answered quickly, as if that answer had been beaten into him.

Johnny met those eyes and offered a smile. “You are confused by the change in master?”

“I . . .” the shifter licked his lips nervously, ear twitching in agitation, the injured leg beginning to shake under the weight he put on it.

Without preamble, Johnny scooped up the youth as if he were still in fox form and easily carried him back to the bed. He lay the man down on the soft mattress and climbed up next to him on the very large surface. “Let us start again, little one. Take a deep breath and slowly let it out.”

The man did as instructed, pale eyes never leaving Johnny’s face.

“Now, answer me true,” Johnny smiled gently, “are you allowing me to be master? If you do not wish it, I can bring you outside and allow you time to try to run once more, but if you _do_ wish it, I expect answers which are as honest as you know how.”

Looking at Johnny, the shifter took a moment before saying, “I do not wish to run anymore. I’m not very good at it.”

“Having never been taught how would make it difficult,” Johnny agreed. “In future, if you ever wish to leave, you will tell me. I will discuss the feasibility with you. This, I pledge, as well, I will try always to be honest and fair with you.” Lowering his head, Johnny kissed the fingers of the shifter’s left hand to signal his vow was sealed.

“Yes, sir,” the shifter answered politely, his voice never rising much above a whisper.

“Very well, I agree to be your new master, little one.” Johnny smiled at the other man. “Now, if you can, will you tell me how you were treated by your former master so I might know how to go on? You will tell me which bits you did not like and which you did, so I can judge how to treat you fairly in all things. But,” holding up his hand, Johnny leaned in close to lay a gentle kiss on the shifter’s forehead, “you will first tell me if ever you had a name _before_ you had a master.” He knew the others elves would be horrified that Johnny would enslave someone, but the roving elf had seen much of the outside word and knew some cultures embraced slavery. He was not about to change this youth's entire life outlook in one sitting, it would terrify and confuse the lad. Instead, Johnny would slowly re-educate the beautiful creature.

Blinking in surprise, the shifter tilted his head and he took a moment before saying, “Thomas? My mother would call me Tommy . . . I think, I don’t remember much from when I was a kit.”

“Then, as a sign that you are _my_ Tommy, I will call you TJ,” Johnny said with a smile. “My name is Johnny, and so you are my Tommy.” He waited and watched for the shifter’s reaction to that claim.

“TJ . . .” the shifter repeated the name a few times before nodding slowly and saying, “yes, sir, I’d like that.”

“Good, so would I. It is good when the pair agrees on things, but only if the agreement is honest,” he smiled approvingly. Johnny carefully began tending the wounded leg. “Now, in as little or many words as you choose, you may tell me what your former master did to you and if you enjoyed or did not certain parts.”

Time passed as the young shifter explained the horrors he’d gone through for many years after his family had been murdered and he enslaved, with much encouragement and tender, kind words and gentle touches from Johnny.

If TJ named a specific part of his body, including his tail and ears, Johnny deliberately, tenderly touched that named area, even if it was a reproductive zone. He wanted to psychologically get TJ used to _no_ pain associated with each part of him. Johnny wanted TJ to realize that his new master would never abuse him the way he’d been abused half of his life. Finally, as the youth finished his sickening, horrifying tale, Johnny leaned over and gently placed a slow kiss to those plush lips. “Rest now, my good little one. You have pleased me with your honesty. When you wake, I will explain your new duties and punishments. But, for now, you will rest here in my bed and let me have the pleasure of watching you sleep. Choose whichever form you feel comfortable in.”

Nodding, TJ said, “yes, sir, thank you,” before he settled back, still in his half-fox form, not having been permitted to sleep in his bipedal form in over ten years but feeling mose natural in it.

Johnny made no move to cage the fox, but he did loosely tie the belt to the post of the bed, the other end so loose that the slender shifter could slide it off without thought. But Johnny didn’t tighten it; he allowed TJ the knowledge that Johnny _trusted_ his new slave would behave or suffer an unknown torment Johnny had yet to reveal. The youth had known fear so long that living without could make him ill or even more distrustful. Let him fear an unknown over a definite beating. Johnny would teach the fox-shifter in time that there was nothing to fear from Johnny in the end.

Curling up, TJ snuggled up against Johnny’s side, his thick, bushy tail wrapping around his still too-lean body, almost completely hiding the fox’s waist and genitalia.

Smiling, Johnny carefully stroked at TJ’s head and his ear fur. He was pleased he hadn’t been required to shave the poor beast bare in the healing, so TJ had the dignity of some fur left, even if most of it had taken on a very light skin tone in the half-form. Swearing to himself to begin as he meant to go on, Johnny would prove that if ever TJ chose to take fox form, he would not receive sexual attentions, even of the pleasant kind. Johnny might be master, but TJ had the freedom of a safe haven he could carry with him wherever he went: his fox form would be sacred to him. It wasn’t as if Johnny had the enchantments to allow himself to assume animal forms, unlike some of the elves he knew. But . . . in time . . . if TJ and Johnny grew in that direction, Johnny wouldn’t deny the beautiful young man sex in either non-fox form, even if he had to locate someone that would please TJ that way. For now, Johnny wished the youth to heal completely so he could run if he chose to, and hide and care for himself, and all the other things a shifter should enjoy by rights.

Johnny hadn’t asked the names of TJ’s slavers, but he had no doubt it was that creeping, engulfing horror called _Hydra_.

**************

As the dawn crested the base of the trees, Steve rose from his bed. He glanced at his ever-present companion, Sam, but didn’t wake him up. Instead, the blond elf dressed quietly and quickly before slipping from the room. He glanced over to his younger brother’s room and saw the ever present privacy curtain so very rarely used in the elvish community. Steve had no idea why Johnny wanted to close himself off from the other elves when he was so rarely among them; the younger man always seemed delighted to be among them, but inevitably closed his rooms off from sight and sound. Steve promised himself a long talk with his brother when he returned from his mission.

Turning, Steve quietly descended the curved stairs to the kitchens on the ground level. He walked in and stirred the carefully banked embers, tended by the night cook who slept days to make up for the evening duty of keeping the fires in check. “Good morning,” he whispered to the night cook and offered his pretty smile. “Can I ask a question or two?” He began to put breakfast on for himself, not bothering to make the exhausted cook end the shift by cooking when it wasn’t among the normal night cook duties.

“Ask away, Steve,” the cook, a small framed Elvish woman with bright blond hair said with a tired smile.

“How do you go courting when you think the other is not receptive?” Steve asked without embarrassment.

“Well,” the woman watched Steve closely, with a happy glint in her green eyes, “I suppose one would have to win the other over, yes?”

“Yes,” Steve agreed amiably, “but how? Isn’t that what courting is for? I’ve never courted. I’m not sure I know how to do it properly. Sam suggested flowers by moonlight.”

“Flowers by moonlight is very romantic, your _friend_ is correct,” the cook answered with a nod, “but, is the person you want to court a romantic person?”

“I don’t know,” Steve answered honestly, moving his cooked assortment of roots and other plants to his plate. “I’ve only just met him once and wasn’t allowed past the door.” Steve, of course, didn’t say he’d actually snuck past the door anyway.

“Ah,” the cook laughed sweetly, “well, as my mate always said, a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Noting the tray of cooked meats sitting under magically freshing enchantment to keep it from spoiling, Steve frowned. “Does one of the guests eat flesh, Lorina?”

Lorina looked at the meats and sighed, “your brother brought in another stray last night. Though I’ve been told that the creature only wants raw meat.” She scrunched her nose in a look of disgust, “so, I am unsure of what to do with all this cooked stuff.”

“Do you think I might take the tray then?” Steve knew from the tales that dragons were fond of meat. Since it was enchanted with freshing spells, it wouldn’t rot while Steve ran his other courting errands on the way to try to apologize to the beautiful dragon.

“Be my guest, Steve, no one else would touch it,” Lorina smiled at Steve.

“Except the guard hounds, if you offered,” Steve reminded her. The hounds were a new addition, actually, since Hydra kept nibbling at the boundaries of the forest kingdom.

“Ah, yes, the guard hounds,” Lorina echoed, “but I can make something for them later, please take whatever you need.”

“I need it all, actually. I have in mind a very wary and probably hungry, _guard dog_ to try to win over on my quest.” Steve reached for the platter and smiled at Lorina. He slipped the entire thing into a protective sack, platter and all, then put that into his pack. Quickly packing up his own breakfast for later, when he really got hungry, Steve offered the cook a smile and filled a pair of water canteens to add to his pack. “I know we have guests, but Mother will be meeting with them in an official capacity. Pease let her know that, and this is important Lorina, if _no one_ else volunteers for the duty she has in mind, Sam will do it, but he prefers to be last choice.” And the blond waved his goodbye, once more not waiting for a reply from the other person in the conversation. He darted from the room.

Outside, Steve offered absent smiles to anyone he passed but didn’t stop and tarry. He slipped out of the treehome and quickly from the protective village circles. Into the deep woods, equipped with protective bow and arrow should he need them, and a pack of various foods and water, the elf began to hunt. It wasn’t uncommon to participate in a hunt, though the elves often did a catch and release or a mercy kill for a wounded or ill animal, but this time Steve hunted for an actual meal. He intended to capture the stag live and bring it as part of his offering, telling the dragon he’d kill and dress it if the man preferred killed to fresh. Steve was not at that foolish youthful stage in which he believed the cycle of nature could be interrupted and no being eat flesh; nature was a varied unity for a purpose.

Several hours later, at high noon, Steve, with his gently hobbled stag and his magically fresh cooked meats and vegetables, arrived once more at the dragon’s castle. He looked up at the imposing structure and fought fear and nerves. He never ran from a fight, but it wasn’t fear of injury or death the brave elf felt. He was afraid of rejection; of not being able to properly apologize, even if he couldn’t get past the dragon’s anger enough to see if a courtship might be feasible. Steve wanted at least peace between the beautiful creature and himself.

With a slow, steadying breath, Steve led the stag to the castle door and paused. He raised a hand and firmly knocked then waited, politely.

Several long moments passed. No noise could be heard from the other side of the door, until the door opened after a few minutes and the dragon looked at Steve with a severe frown. “I believe I told you not to come back.”

Bowing his shoulders and head politely, Steve said, “I’ve come like a civilized being this time to apologize for my rude and thoughtless behavior, interrupting your sanctuary and your peace. I am not sure what is appropriate for a dragon, so I have brought a tray of fresh cooked meats, and some vegetable fare, as well if you prefer. I have brought a live stag in case you wish a hunt, or which I can kill and dress for you, if you wish just a raw meal. I hope my food offerings show you I meant never to intrude on your hospitality and am genuinely sorry for my behavior and insensitivity.” He never straightened for the entire speech.

Quirking a brow, the dragon ran his eyes down the elf’s athletic body, never having opened the door more than a crack. With a sigh, he stepped out into the light, his left hand and the scales that ran up the side of his neck sparkled and glimmered in the sunlight. “You brought me a live stag?” The dragon’s eyes moved to the surprisingly uninjured animal, one large enough to feed himself for quite a while.

“Yes, I was unsure which rumors or tales to listen to. Some claim a dragon enjoys a blood hunt, but I didn’t have the heart to injure it if you didn’t practice such a ritual.” Steve finally straightened. “And some claim dragons eat only clouds and wishes, but I figured you are a living, breathing being and can’t live on magic alone.”

“If only I could satisfy myself on clouds,” the dragon laughed and looked back at the elf, “you said you brought a tray of meats, as well?”

“Yes, my unwilling host,” Steve didn’t have a name to use so tried to find a polite address for the dragon. “And another of cooked vegetables, though I’ll gladly forage if you wish uncooked?”

Humming in thought, the dragon said, “let the stag go and come inside.”

Nodding, Steve turned and released the soft rope binding the stag’s front feet and the lead around his neck. The deer wasted no time bounding to freedom. Turning, the elf stepped into the castle but moved not a step further, pulling the pack from his shoulders and offering it. “There’s water canteens, as well, if you have need. They’re enchanted to freshen even the most stagnant of water in case a journey brings the bearer far from hospitable surroundings.”

The dragon stepped in front of Steve after shutting the door behind him, he beckoned for the elf to follow him up the stairs.

“The food has been enchanted, as well, to never rot, so you do not have to try to chill it or salt it or even eat it right away unless you desire. It will last as long as it remains on the plate but will rot at a regular pace once removed. It’s the plates which are enchanted. These are also gifts for you.” Steve met his eyes briefly. “The stories say dragons like treasures, and I thought something useful might be a treasure as well.”

Walking up the stairs, the dragon snorted softly, “there are a lot of stories about dragons, Elf.”

“Yes,” Steve never moved from in front of the door, still holding his pack but watching as the dragon moved. This time, he would await invitation.

“You gonna come up? Or just stand there all day? You do make a pretty decoration, though,” the dragon looked down from the top of the stairs with an amused smirk.

“And you are far prettier,” Steve murmured without thought, “I could gladly stand all day just to watch you.” He shook himself as if from a dream and began climbing the stairs behind the creature, claiming, “thank you, my host, I appreciate the kindness you show me.”

“Another one of your _guests_ , James?” A female voice called out from down the hall as she approached the dragon.

Steve paused then continued, flushing. “I was unaware you had a mate, sir, or I’d have made sure to bring twice as much for you both.” He hoped what little he brought could at least feed the pair, and possible young ones Steve realized, for one meal at the least.

“Natasha isn’t my mate, more like a thorn in my side,” the dragon, James, snarked, narrowing his pale eyes in the direction of the small, redheaded female that made her way over. 

“Well, if I had thought that you had even a thorn to tend, I would have procured more. I am not sure how much a dragon needs to eat, though.” Steve bowed to the female with the black and red scale markings. “My lady,” he said.

“Oh, _how formal_ ,” Natasha smirked but returned the bow with one of her own, “I smell food. Actually, Becca smelled food and sent me.”

Steve knew now that there were a minimal three dragons to feed here. He nodded and offered the pack. “I can go gather more if you require it? This meal is my offering, the least I can do is make sure there is enough?” Excitement filled him, which Steve brutally tamped down. _Three_ dragons? When he’d never even dared hoped to meet _one_? How had they managed to hide all this time? Glancing from James to Natasha, Steve knew his answer: they were shifters, of course, and could find ways to blend into a culture of bipedal creatures, even if it might take enchantment or other methods of disguise. They were able to hide among those around them, if they chose. Pleasure at such a safety feature washed over Steve and he felt relief. The dragons had some small protection at least.

“Your food will make a good addition to the meal I was already preparing,” James said, “no need for you to go out and gather more.” He gestured for the elf to follow him once more, leading Steve in the opposite direction of the room in which the elf had first met him.

“Thank you,” Steve answered and carried the pack with the food and enchanted containers with him. Once at the door, Steve paused to take in the sight beyond the threshold.

James had led Steve into a dining room, a wooden table made to seat at least twelve sat in the center and more windows that overlooked the sea brightened the space. It seemed that the only rooms that were dark were the ones at the front of the castle, facing away from the ocean.

Politely Steve offered the pack for the fourth time, this time to both dragons. “The food should have stayed on the platters in passage.”

Natasha took the pack with a smile and began to unpack the food, setting it out on the table. James moved around, setting out the last of the food he’d already prepared for lunch.

Small and pretty, no more than late adolescence, a female with large pale blue eyes and dark near-black curls spilled down her back, stepped into the room with a noticeable limp. She was dressed in the finest, filmy gauze, in layers to hide her genitalia and banding in folds over her chest, but her feet were bare, revealing a twisted, burnt, painful right leg. Her scales were of an iridescent purple tracing into indigoes and even dark blues, and covered her belly and thighs, sliding up to be covered by her clothing, hinting that they covered areas best left for a mate’s eyes only. No scaling touched her arms, hands or face, though her nails matched her scales and traces could be seen under her flowing hair. The young woman leaned heavily on a crudely made and thickly padded crutch, her arm raw underneath where the wood and cotton rubbed it every time she moved. She froze at seeing Steve standing by the door, her eyes widening. The dragon started trying to back from the room and wound up tangling her injured foot with her crutch and falling, hard, caught by Steve’s quick elvish reflexes before she could injure herself on the heavy flagstones.

“Becca!” James rushed over, shooting Steve a quick look of relief though his eyes were narrowed in a slight glare. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d try to get out of bed, I would’ve warned you we had a . . . guest.”

Steve made sure she was stable once more and handed her the crutch politely before setting her back on her precarious feet. “I hope you aren’t further injured, my lady,” he bowed.

She whispered, fear in her voice, “ _he’s_ no dragon!”

“He’s not,” James confirmed, guiding her over to a chair so she could sit down, “he’s an elf. The one that paid us a visit last night.”

“Not edible?” she asked, as if it were a reasonable question to ask if guests could be eaten. She sank gracefully to the chair and smoothed her outfit.

“That’s still in the air,” James answered, pale eyes flickering to look over at Steve and then back at the woman, “depends on how good the meat he brought is.”

The elf didn’t seem afraid at all, though his mouth moved to form silent words which could be _‘gladly I would be eaten by dragons.’_ It wasn’t certain if such a bizarre sentiment was really what Steve whispered to himself.

Becca shrugged her left shoulder nonchalantly, avoiding moving her raw right arm. “Well, if we aren’t pleased, I say reserve the choice.” The woman looked innocent and delicate, but the words marked someone of a fierce nature, perhaps a hunter or even a soldier, if it were possible. It was evident Becca had lived a rough life of violence.

“Of course,” James answered, finally satisfied that the young woman was comfortable enough as he stepped away. He looked over at Steve, “I guess I should know your name, Elf. Unless that’s your name?”

“No, my lord,” Steve settled on the formal title. “My name is Steve, son of Sarah and Joseph, rulers of the woodland realms.” He bowed formally. “But I don’t mind being just called Steve,” he tried for a bit of his humor, though his face remained as passive as any time he joked with Sam.

Bucky quirked a brow, though his eyes were surprised, “just _Steve_ , huh?”

“Among my people, titles are not required. We are all equal and are equally responsible for one another. Some lead, others guard, and still others serve, but we may rotate many of our tasks as appropriate and leaders are elected regularly on merit. No one deserves higher title than another.” Steve bowed again, unsure which culture’s standards he should be adopting, so choosing their nearest joint neighbor the brutish humans - - not that he felt like the dragons were as infantile and barbaric, but the humans were overly polite to those they deemed worth it, so the courtesy couldn’t be misplaced if the dragons valued rank.

“Well, we don’t use titles here either, _Just Steve_ ,” James teased.

Steve offered a smile in return, the expression making his face light up and look rather pretty. “And would I be permitted to use the names of my hosts?” he asked politely, still standing in the doorway until invited to invade the meal.

“I suppose,” James grinned, a much different attitude than the violent, angry man from last night, “my name’s James,” he gestured to the redhead, “that’s Natasha,” and he ended with the young woman in the chair, “and that’s my sister, Becca.”

Becca raised her eyes to check over Steve then looked at her brother. “Son of . . . Sarah of the woodland peoples? Very . . . intriguing. James, can we hold him for ransom? We might get more gifts if we tell the woodland people the son of their leader is our . . . guest.”

James rolled his eyes, huffing playfully, “I'd rather _not_ have all of the woodland realm on our asses.”

Becca stared at the bounty of food laid before her, smiling in delight at the added rations Steve had provided. “Oh, Bucky, let’s keep him? He can find food while we are trapped inside!”

Steve looked at the male dragon and softly asked, “are you in need of provisions?”

“While _you_ are trapped inside,” James corrected his sister; he looked at Steve and shook his head, “no, Nat and I are still very capable of hunting, thank you, Steve.”

Nodding, the elf waited politely for the host to delve out the food, not reaching for anything, despite having not eaten since the day before. He wondered just how much hunting a pair of dragons could do while remaining out of sight and away from others. “Were you injured while hunting, Becca?” Steve asked.

She snorted. “No. I’ve never been allowed to hunt _because_ I am injured. It won’t heal.” She reached for some of the cooked meats.

James, or Bucky by his sister, looked over at the young woman and then over at Steve. The elf could tell the dragon was worried for his sister; they'd tried everything to get her wounds to heal, but so far, nothing had worked.

“Do dragons have enchantments or alchemy?” Steve asked, curious, frowning in worry at the unexpected answer. He wondered just how long Becca had been injured.

“We can do basic enchantments,” Bucky answered and then gestured for Steve to begin eating before taking a bite of his own meal. “But I wouldn't say we are anywhere near as skilled as elves in that category.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. “I haven’t mastered even a small amount of healing enchantments.” He suddenly wished his gifts had lain in the healing rather than the hunting and diplomacy sectors. “My mother is one of the last great healers of our people. She has yet to find more than one apprentice on which to pass her great abilities.” He raised his eyes and reached for some of the cooked roots and reeds and such, avoiding the meat but showing no disgust at the dragon choices. “I wish I could offer Becca healing. I would gladly do so.”

Sighing, Bucky nodded and took another bite. Natasha was the one to speak up, “Clint says your mother can heal basically anyone. That true?”

“You speak with Clint?” Steve felt surprised that one of the elves ventured to the castle and spoke to the dragons; someone other than Steve had broken the laws? “Yes,” he finally answered. “I believe she can.”

“Yes, for some time now, we can't seem to shake him off,” Natasha's tone was more amused than annoyed, “do you think she could heal Becca?”

“I can inform my mother, if you wish, and let her know Clint has broken the laws and annoyed you.” Steve flushed as he revealed his own crimes, too. “And if she was inclined, I believe she could, but I am not sure if she would wish to. My mother is a kind elf, but she was widowed by dragons.”

Bucky frowned severely, pale eyes flickering to look at his sister across the table and then back at Steve, “really? I didn't know that . . .” his voice sounded troubled and a bit wary.

“She has never discussed it with me, actually, so I know only what the elder Chester, head of security, has told me. He was there when my father died protecting a pair of children. Chester said dragons were responsible.” Steve looked at Bucky. “But I wouldn’t hold the past against any of you. That’s not something you did, so why should you be punished for it?”

Becca sighed and took some of the cooked roots to try. Her eyes lit up. “These are good, Bucky.” Obviously, she didn’t feel like talking about death.

Nodding, accepting that his sister wished to change the subject, Bucky took a bit of the vegetables and gave Steve a small smile, “these are good. Though, I was surprised when you brought cooked meat . . . I thought elves didn't eat meat?”

“We don’t,” Steve offered a smile. “My brother rescued a fox and the cook made the mistake of cooking the meat for it’s meal. Since the meat was left, I chose to bring it along, taking the chance that you might not turn away meat, cooked or otherwise.”

“Does your brother rescue injured animals often?” Natasha asked as she swallowed a bite of the juicy, seasoned meat.

Chuckling, Steve nodded. “All the time, if he is home, Johnny is tending to injured animals or even strangers of other races who wandered into trouble. He doesn’t have healing enchantment, either, but he has the heart.”

“Does he travel often?” Bucky asked, tilting his head with a curious expression.

With a sigh, Steve nodded. “Actually, he travels more than he is at home, and it worries our mother. He is often alone and looking for something, he never tells what.” Looking over, Steve asked, “before the injuries, did you travel often - - the three of you?”

Swallowing another bite before speaking, Bucky shook his head, “Becca and I haven't ever been travelers, we grew up here . . . Nat though, she used to travel all the time.”

Nat nodded, green eyes meeting Steve’s bright blue, “yes, I was looking for others of our kind. Dragons are . . . well, they are a dying species if you will.”

“Is that because others misunderstand you and hunt you down or because you are solitary and so breeding presents a problem?” Steve displayed his knowledge of political and cultural problems.

“A little of both,” Natasha answered with a sigh, “it has become so bad that most dragons fear leaving their homes because they think they'll be hunted and killed. So, they don't meet prospective mates.”

“So, even though you are a thorn, are you a prospective mate?” Steve asked, his expression serious.

Snorting, Bucky chuckled and shook his head, “a thorn is all she'll ever be.”

Natasha laughed, “yes, my first purpose in finding the Barnes family was to look for a potential mate but that faded into settling here.”

Lowering his eyes, Steve ventured to ask a very personal draconic question. “Can dragons breed with non-dragons?”

“Sure, just like every other species, the bloodline just becomes muted,” Natasha answered without looking embarrassed at the personal question.

“And can males produce offspring or females? Or both?” Steve asked, still looking at his meal, eating neatly.

“Bearing children is saved almost exclusively for females only,” Natasha answered, continuing to eat her meal.

“And is it offensive to choose mates with one’s own gender in draconic society as it is in human society?” Steve asked, stilling in anticipation of hearing the answer, unaware that he projected intense interest in such an answer.

Bucky watched Steve closely and shook his head, “it isn't offensive to lie with the same gender in our species.”

“It is acceptable among elves, as well,” Steve said softly, his posture relaxing once more. He finally lifted his eyes to offer a smile at his hosts.

“So, aside from breaking and entering,” Bucky started with a smirk, “what is it you like to do, Steve?”

“I like to wander and explore, yes, and I’ll admit that breaking into your home was a selfish thing to do, though it was the only time I’ve done such. I often spend time at home among the diplomatic ranks and am being trained to lead if the tribe chooses to elect me.” Steve met Bucky’s eyes. “I’m one of the elvish diplomats.” He flushed at the contradiction of a diplomat breaking into someone’s home. “And I like to study other cultures.”

“Sounds exciting, what exactly do you do as a diplomat?” Bucky asked, giving Steve a small smile.

“I go among other cultures and try to learn about the people. I offer treaty and trade if it will not endanger the elves and our charges of forest and animal and water. I try to bring peace among those arguing differences.” Placing his fork down, Steve said, “I am arbitrator, preservationist, ambassador, historian, and, if needed, a soldier. I have yet to choose a culture I wish to permanently be ambassador for, though it will be expected of me by the time the colds come again. I’m of an age to choose a permanent occupation. For a diplomat, that means a culture to represent.”

Bucky watched Steve for a few moments, meeting the blond’s eyes, “and which cultures are you leaning towards, Steve? I trust that you've seen a lot.”

“Until last evening, I had no special affinity for any one culture,” Steve responded, meeting those beautiful pale blue eyes.

“Until last evening,” Bucky echoed with a nod.

Never removing his eyes from those of the dragon’s, Steve softly added, “now I wish to champion dragons.”

“Why?” Bucky asked simply, he leaned forward slightly, bracing his elbows on the table so that his left hand caught the sun from the windows, making the silver scales glimmer once more.

“You are a beautiful people whom I feel must be misunderstood. You had the chance to kill me and the right after my invasion, yet you merely ordered me to leave. A man defending his home and kin who chooses peace over war is worth getting to know.” Steve continued to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“But,” Bucky licked his lips and took a deep breath, “you said your father was killed by dragons. Why would you want to help us?”

“I have only one elf’s tale, and a very brief one, concerning that incident. I have no idea what my father stepped into or why he was killed for it, but I feel that it has nothing to do with your rights to a champion. You, James, proved you are honorable and peace-minded. Therefore, you deserve a chance at life, protection, to rebuild your community if so desired. Of course,” Steve sighed, “I also know that one small family is not representative of the entire culture, so I would need to research and perhaps even meet more dragons to see if they are all as peace-minded as you. If they are, I will choose to be diplomat for the draconic people, if they will accept my efforts on their behalf. If they are not peace-minded, I will choose another race and try to find a way for your rare family not to be slaughtered in the meantime.”

“Dragons aren't easy to find, Steve, they keep to themselves and don't appreciate strangers knocking on their doors. You are better off picking another race to help. As Natasha said, we are a dying species . . . I am not sure there is much to be done about that. Hydra has hunted us to near extinction,” Bucky shook his head, looking a cross between angry and mournful.

Steve wrinkled his nose in absolute disgust, a mild expression compared to his fierce emotion, “Hydra is the one not fit to exist. They abuse and torture and kill others without purpose or reason. If we could locate their heart, we would rip it from them and crush it.”

“Oh,” Becca said with a small amount of glee, “he sounds as fierce as a dragon, Bucky. Are you sure I can’t keep him?”

“As entertaining as that would be,” Bucky laughed softly, “I am sure his mother would miss him.”

Steve nodded but smiled at the young draconic woman. “She would indeed, and not just for a mother’s strong love. My aid on behalf of unity would be sorely missed. Are you sure,” he looked to Bucky, “you don’t wish me to champion you?”

Bucky sighed and shrugged, “I won't tell you what to do, all I am saying is the dragon race might be unsavable, even with someone who has as big of a heart as you.”

A light flush covered Steve’s face at the high compliment. Softly, he offered, “would you allow me to bring my mother to your sister to see if she may heal her, if I find she is amenable, that is. I would not wish her to know of your existence if she wouldn’t consider helping a dragon.”

“I would appreciate her help . . . we have tried everything,” Bucky sighed and shook his head.

Steve offered, tone firm, “if she will not aid dragons, I will research with our wise ones until I find one with the knowledge of how I might help even without healing enchantments.”

Bucky nodded, “thank you, Steve, that . . .” the dragon smiled softly, the expression brightening his pale eyes, “that means a lot.”

Steve offered a brighter smile in return. “I would be honored to help any way I can, Bucky.” He used the pet name without thinking.

“Oh,” Bucky’s smile grew a bit wider, “we’re at nicknames now? Well, I feel like I need something to call you.”

Flushing, Steve ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Nah, you’re just a punk, _Stevie_ ,” Bucky drawled playfully.

“Jerk,” Steve laughed out loud, throwing his head back and crossing one hand over his chest.

Natasha looked between the two men with an amused expression. She turned back to Steve, “so, how long are you visiting us? Will you be needing a room?”

“I wish,” Steve sighed, “but I’ll need to make it home for both the conversation about Mother healing Becca and an official dinner with the representatives of the Sea tribe who have come to unite the tribes.”

Humming softly, Natasha nodded, “well if you must be back for a dinner, I would recommend leaving soon.”

“Perhaps right now,” a serious voice came from the doorway, sounding neutral but firm. Another blond elf, slightly darker, shorter and stockier than Steve, stepped from the hall, bow drawn and arrow knocked, aimed directly at Steve’s head. “You shouldn’t have come here, Steve. It’s against the regulations your own mother has set.”

Bucky frowned, looking at Clint, an elf that insisted he was protecting them, “I would appreciate you lowering your weapon,” the dragon said with a slight growl.

Clint obeyed instantly, but kept the arrow ready, even if pointed down and the bow string not as taut.

“What are you doing disobeying mother’s dictates, Clint?” Steve turned, challenging the other elf.

“I am under orders to guard this castle and allow no one in to disturb the residents,” Clint responded seriously.

“Well, you failed at that last night,” Bucky grumbled, standing up to collect the plates from the table.

“Last night?” Clint eyed the three dragons intently, checking for new injuries. “I was not on duty last night. I will have words with Sarah if my relief neglected her duties.”

“No one was hurt,” Natasha said with a roll of her emerald eyes, “I think you’re overreacting, Clint.”

“Just because it was Steve, rather than a real threat, does not mean my duties are useless. I am far from over-reacting about the safety of a nearly deceased people.” Clint finally pulled arrow from string and glared at Natasha, sliding the weapon into his quiver and relaxing his bow hand, which, as the dragons had noticed previously, changed with his moods.

Natasha shrugged, also standing to help Bucky clear the table, “Steve was just about to leave anyway.”

“I will escort you, Steve,” Clint said in a threatening tone. “And you’ll take the stag from the front courtyard where it seems to feel it has found a new home.”

“Becca always wanted a pet,” Bucky said, flashing a grin to his younger sister, “though, I fear she may eat a stag.”

“Can we afford a pet when a stag would make many meals?” Becca asked with wide, innocent seeming eyes.

“They eat the boring stuff,” Bucky said, shooting a quick wink to Steve.

“Who eats boring stuff?” Becca asked suddenly, reaching for her crutch with a reluctant sigh, preparing to stand. “Stags? Elves?”

“Both?” Bucky offered on a laugh, “all fruits and vegetation, nothing good. Nothing _hearty_.”

“I like meat,” Becca responded and hefted herself shakily to her feet. She positioned the crutch under the raw part of her arm once more and began limping slowly towards the door leading to the hall and her room. “Good afternoon, Steve, Clint. I’m going to go rest now.”

“Good night, Becca,” Steve watched worriedly.

Clint merely nodded, more reclusive and less overly polite than his leader’s eldest son.

Bucky’s smile faded slightly as his sister left the room; he looked at Steve, “you’ll ask her?” The dragon knew Steve would understand the question.

“You have my word of honor, Bucky,” Steve promised. “I don’t know if she’ll help, but I will certainly try my best to persuade her.”

“You aren’t going to bring yet another law breaker in here to annoy my dragons!” Clint growled at Steve. “They aren’t to be bothered!”

“I’m not bothered,” Bucky said innocently; he looked over at Natasha, “are you bothered, Nat?”

“No, not bothered,” Natasha smirked, eyeing the stockier elf; she hadn’t missed Clint calling them _his_ dragons, but she decided not to comment on it.

Steve looked to Clint, incredulously. “You don’t _own_ dragons, Clint!”

“They are mine to protect, not own, Steve. You deliberately mess with my words like you do everyone else’s.” He gestured to the door. “You’re leaving now.”

Steve bowed at the shoulders and looked over to the two dragons. “Good afternoon, Bucky, Natasha.” He left without waiting for a reply. Steve didn’t even look to see if Clint followed him, hurrying down the steps and out into the afternoon sunshine.

Glancing over at the peacefully grazing stag, Steve smiled and merely walked into the trees, leaving the large deer where it was: a gift for Becca, whether she chose to tend it or eat it. He slipped easily through the trees, more confident of his path this fourth time moving it.


	5. Hydra Calls

About an hour before the evening meal, Steve arrived home, recalling that his brother, a notorious animal rescuer, had returned once more.

Mounting the steps, Steve headed for the rooms his family occupied. He stopped first at his mother’s suite and knocked outside her open doorway. “Mother?”

“Steve?” Sarah called, “come in. Where have you been all day?”

“I went courting, Mother, as I told you last evening.” He smiled and stepped into the room, giving Sarah a kiss on her cheek. “And you were right. When I knocked on the door and apologized, he welcomed me in to dine with his family.”

“See? See what manners will get you?” Sarah laughed softly, blue eyes sparkling, “and I take it everything went well? If your smile is anything to go by?”

“No, Mother, it didn’t,” Steve sighed, frowning softly, eyes shifting to intense worry. “His sister is quite badly injured and for some reason they cannot get the wounds to heal properly.”

Frowning in return, Sarah said, “sounds like a curse, maybe? Did he tell you how she was injured?”

“No, and I didn’t actually ask. I was more concerned with how she could be cured and never thought the injuring would have aid in the healing.” Steve sighed and sank to the floor, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees. “Mother, you are able to heal shifters, are you not?”

“Shifters? Yes, of course. They can be a bit tricky, though, depending on the animal they shift into,” Sarah supplied honestly, “is that what this man and his family are? Shifters?”

“Yes, mother, shifters.” He sighed again. “Does a shifter heal better in bipedal form or animal form?”

“Depends on their animal and which form is their natural state. Being in their natural state takes less energy, so more is able to be used to heal,” Sarah explained.

“And depending on their habitat, a shifter might be forced into non-animal form just to survive?” Steve shook his head. “If the creature is of inherent magickal nature, would that hinder or help enchanted healing?”

“Most of the time it would help,” Sarah answered, “you want me to heal this girl.” She stopped her son from dancing around the topic with the blunt statement.

“Yes,” he responded, “but I fear you won’t agree.”

“And why is that?” Sarah asked.

Meeting her eyes, Steve softly said, “because she is a dragon.”

“A dragon?” Sarah shook her head, looking surprised, “where did you meet a dragon, Steve?”

“In a dragon’s lair, Mother. And I’ll not tell you where unless you agree no harm will befall them.” Pausing, Steve frowned.

“I’m not about to send out a hunting party out for some dragons, Steve,” Sarah motioned for her son to continue explaining.

Nodding, Steve said, “I broke into his home yesterday without really thinking. I merely wanted to see if the rumors were true and . . . he’s beautiful . . . He could’ve killed me, it was his right, but he let me go instead. He doesn’t deserve to be hunted.” Steve seemed lost in his thoughts despite his verbal words.

“You went into the castle that I _banned_ you from, didn’t you?” Sarah put her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed.

Blinking, Steve looked up at his mother and nodded once. “Yes.”

“Steve, you broke a _decree_!” Sarah looked shocked and worried, “what were you thinking?”

“I did it out of stupid curiosity, Mother, but you _know_ I won’t be the only one. If I would do it, others will eventually. They need better protection than an obsessive bowman and an absentee replacement guard.” Steve frowned fiercely.

“You shouldn’t even know they exist, Steve,” Sarah snapped.

“The three of them are alone and frightened and the one is injured, Mother. They are part of a dying race who needs protection and understanding. I _know_ Father was killed in an event involving dragons, but this group, the Barnes family, isn’t like that!”

“I will think about lending my aid,” Sarah said firmly, looking angry and betrayed, “go make sure your brother is ready for dinner.”

Steve stood without comment and left, obediently. He moved off to his brother’s room, noticing the curtain was closed, per normal. So, respecting his brother’s privacy, and whatever animal might startled at loud noises, such as this rumored fox, Steve called softly, “Johnny? It’s Steve.”

Inside the room, Johnny paused in getting washed up for dinner. He stood, totally undressed, washcloth in hand, looking mildly surprised. Turning towards the door, Johnny glanced at the shifter on his bed, soft rope tied lightly around his neck.

TJ’s head was tilted and he looked between Johnny and the curtained entryway. He sat up, the soft rope still tied off to the bedpost. His brown and white streaked hair was mussed from sleep, sticking up wildly. The shifter was nude but he grabbed the thin blanket on the bed and pulled the soft fabric over his thin body, ears flattening with fear.

“My brother,” Johnny explained softly then strode to the curtain, totally nude, and opened it. “Come in, Steve, and close the curtain behind you. I’m bathing for dinner.” He walked back to the washstand.

Walking in, sliding the curtain carefully closed, Steve paused at seeing the very pretty man on the bed. He blinked at seeing the pale blue eyes, the dark hair streaked with light, the features that appeared almost familiar . . and the ears and slightly hidden tail of a fox. Blinking, Steve expected to see silver chasing over the man’s features but they stayed very undraconish. “I didn’t know you had company, Johnny. I’m sorry. Mother wanted to be sure you make it to dinner.”

“This is TJ,” Johnny smiled at his shifter on the bed. “And I am caring for him.”

Steve turned to look at TJ and bowed formally at the shoulders.”Good afternoon, TJ. Welcome to the woodland realms.”

Blinking, looking completely shocked, TJ’s head tilted again as he took in the large blond, ears perking up slightly. Though his legs and groin were covered by the sheet, the scars on the young shifter’s chest and neck were very visible, it seemed the only place that had escaped some sort of scarring was TJ’s face.

Studying TJ carefully, Steve asked, “do you need help healing him, Johnny? I had heard you’d rescued a fox this time, not a shifter.”

“He’s part fox, part bipedal, and mostly shifter,” Johnny corrected firmly. “Mother lifted his curses last night, so I believe I can heal him on my own, but thank you. I’ll let Mother know if I need more serious help. His leg will take some time to heal but should hopefully not leave a limp behind.” Johnny offered his rescuee a gentle smile.

“A shifter?” Steve asked, smiling widely. He turned to TJ again but didn’t make the mistake of approaching and spooking him. “I’ve had little chance to meet the fox peoples, TJ. Johnny’s good at healing people and getting them home again, if it doesn’t take magic.”

“I am not a fox _people_ ,” TJ replied, “I’m a _fox_.” He spoke in that same insistent tone that Johnny had figured out the shifter used when he repeated a lesson that had been beaten into him. “I belong to Master.”

“And he’s welcome to live with the elves now,” Johnny added with a smile. “TJ’s knows that if ever he wants to be free, we’ll discuss it, but for now, we’re both content that he be an elf, not a fox or a rogue.” Johnny moved to the closet and pulled out a soft pair of dark brown trousers and a maroon tunic. He also pulled out a soft outfit of light green: a knee length skirt attached to a loose tunic. It would normally be worn by a female, but was not unheard of on a male.

Steve shook his head and sighed. “I didn’t mean to offend you, TJ. I’m afraid I didn’t expect to meet any shifters in the house, let alone one who has decided to join the elves.”

“I don’t get offended,” TJ replied honestly, looking over at Steve with large, innocent-seeming, pale blue eyes. “I am not permitted to get offended.”

“If I know my little brother, he won’t mind you getting offended,” Steve smiled. “He’s all about someone experiencing the full range of emotions freely.”

“That’s not what I am all about, Steve. You’re going to confuse TJ with your odd idioms.” Johnny turned to smile at TJ and sank onto the bed, reaching over to slip the short gown over the fox’s head. “There. Now I can bring you to supper and you won’t feel like everyone is lusting after your beautiful body. And, with your tail, the gown won’t confine it.”

“What is _lusting_?” TJ asked, looking at Johnny, liking how the gown fell over his bushy tail.

Johnny nodded and stood to slip into his trousers, “it’s when someone wants to mate with another with or without permission. Not always with the goal of kits, either.”

“Like in mating season? My old masters liked mating season,” TJ wrinkled his nose, crawling out from under the sheet, the short dress falling over the shifter’s ass and hitting his mid thighs.

Nodding, Johnny looked down at TJ. “Exactly like mating season, but even outside of mating season. Lust is what someone feels when the blood heats for mating and fills the reproductive parts to prepare for mating.” Johnny pulled on his tunic and smiled at TJ. He leaned over and unfastened the rope from the bed post. “How does your leg feel, TJ?”

“It’s okay, sir,” TJ answered, crawling off the bed and sitting by Johnny’s feet.

Gently, Johnny tugged the rope, ignoring Steve’s frown. “TJ, we’ll be walking down to dinner now. Once there, you will be expected to sit on a cushion like the others there, so please do not try to avoid the cushion, okay?”

“Will there be a lot of people to entertain, sir?” TJ asked as he carefully stood, putting more weight on his left leg.

“Yes, but _you_ will not be doing the entertaining this night. You’re _mine_ , and so will only entertain me if asked. Is that clear?” Johnny smiled at the beautiful shifter.

“Johnny!” Steve gasped, “you can’t treat him as a slave! Slavery is banned in the woodland realms!”

TJ whimpered at Steve’s tone, flinching, and the shifter debated whether or not he should change forms. His old masters were sometimes less cruel when he was in fox form. The beatings mainly only happened in his half or bipedal form.

Rolling his eyes, Johnny said, “he’s not a slave, Steve. He’s free, but he’s comfortable treated as a submissive. I refuse to make him less comfortable just because _you_ don’t approve of such cultural differences. TJ always tells the truth to me.” Johnny turned to the fox-shifter. “TJ, do you want me to unfasten the rope?”

“I - - I am not permitted in this form without a rope. I can shift to my other form if you’d like, sir,” TJ offered with a shaky tone, eyes flickering to look at Steve warily, ears pressed flat against his skull.

“Not needed unless you choose to,” Johnny smiled. “But Steve is afraid you are unhappy or hurt by me. You can tell him honestly what you feel. Are you unhappy or hurt by me, TJ?”

“Master doesn’t hurt me,” TJ said, looking at the larger elf, “I am happier with him than I was with my old Masters.”

Steve opened his mouth then closed it again, nodding. He realized that Johnny was perhaps right, if a bit odd; TJ needed to feel something familiar as he healed. Eventually, once he got used to being safe and well-kept, he might look more and more for freedom, which he’d be given. “Okay, that’s good. If he does hurt you, TJ, you can tell any elf around and you’ll be saved. We don’t believe in hurting each other here in this realm.”

Johnny opened the door and led TJ from the room, moving slowly in deference to TJ’s still healing leg. “Come to dinner, Steve, and meet our Sea cousins.”

“I met them last night, Johnny,” Steve followed the pair, watching the fox with worried eyes.

Walking with a slight limp, feet bare, TJ followed Johnny. The white streaks in the shifter’s hair seemed to glow in the blue lights that were scattered throughout the village.

Shock coursed through Steve as he walked behind the pair, eyes falling on the brand seared into TJ’s neck, the loose rope easily revealing the multi-headed beast scarred along the shapely neck. He made a mental note to find out just where Johnny had wandered to in order to rescue this shifter . . . mother would want to know how close to their borders Hydra had infiltrated.

TJ looked around at the village as Johnny led him; this was the first time he’d actually been able to appreciate the beauty of the place where he’d been taken. TJ had never seen a prettier place; he could remember his mother telling him stories about the woodland elves when he was just a kit. He’d been fascinated then, wanting nothing more than to find the village in the trees. He also remembered his mother telling him something about how the woodland elves were known to be protectors of wildlife . . . maybe he finally was _safe_.

Johnny offered TJ another smile just as he led the other man into the dining area amid the joyful, talkative, celebrating elves. Light wines flowed freely and vegetation of numerous descriptions prepared in a variety of ways were passed around willingly. Many of the diners greeted the two elves and offered welcomes to TJ then went back to their conversations, food, and drink. Johnny looked at TJ and nodded towards a trio of empty chairs near the woman who’d healed the shifter in the night.

Looking up at her two sons and then the face she’d never seen before, Sarah looked back at Johnny, “not just a fox, I take it.”

“Not _just_ a fox, Mother,” Johnny agreed on a delighted smile. “Isn’t he the loveliest you ever saw? Even with his injuries, TJ is graceful.” Without knowing, Johnny’s tone was very similar to Steve’s when he’d spoken earlier of the man he wished to court . . . the dragon.

Flushing, TJ ducked his head, shifting from foot to foot, despite the injury. He felt a little warmer than he _should_ from just a blush or even the room full of people. “Thank you . . . for healing me,” TJ said softly, keeping his head down.

Sarah looked at TJ, noticing the scars on his uncovered flesh; she looked over at Steve and she frowned softly. Steve could tell his mother was worried. Looking back at TJ, Sarah smiled gently, “you are very welcome, my dear. If those scars are painful, I can ease them as well.”

Johnny smiled at his mother then back at TJ.

Looking up at the woman with wide eyes, TJ then looked at Johnny, “no scars?”

“If you want them, they’re your’s, but if you don’t, Mother can remove them with her healing enhancements, TJ. She is serious about her offer for you.” Johnny lifted TJ’s hand and nuzzled the palm.

The skin-on-skin contact drew a high, needy mewl from the shifter, eyes going even wider. TJ blinked and flushed brightly; in a whisper, the young man leaned closer to Johnny, “I - - I am lusting, sir . . .”

Nodding, Johnny turned directly back towards the door and said, “good night, Mother, Steve. TJ needs alone time with me now. Don’t worry about us, but please send us food in half an hour? Make sure TJ’s is raw meat, please?” He offered the other elves a smile and led TJ from the room. In the hall, Johnny swung TJ up into his arms and carried him swiftly back to the protected, curtained room. He carefully lay the fox-shifter on the bed, bending over him a long moment before sealing his lips over TJ’s in a tender kiss.

Keening into the kiss, TJ’s long fingers lifted, then hesitated for a moment before he finally touched Johnny’s firm chest.

Smiling and drawing out of the kiss slowly, Johnny lay his hand over TJ’s chest, right over his heart. “You are in mating season, TJ, and I can find you a mate of your choice. Tell me what you would like?” He didn’t seem to feel the kiss might be construed as the act of a mate, though Johnny was highly attracted to the youth.

“I - - I want you, sir,” TJ’s eyes were blown near black, only a sliver of pale blue could be seen. The shifter whimpered and keened, the noises high-pitched and animalistic.

Considering the request, Johnny softly said, “TJ, fox-shifters mate for life. Do you wish sex or a mate?” He stroked TJ’s luxurious hair from his eyes.

“I don’t want anyone else,” TJ said; it had been the first time the shifter hadn’t addressed the elf with a dominant title.

Chuckling softly, Johnny nodded. “I understand that, TJ, but do you wish only me for the rest of our lives, or do you just want me to relieve your mating rut? I cannot help you produce kits without enchantments.”

“Only you, Johnny,” TJ mewled, back arching off the bed as his hand grabbed a fistful of Johnny’s maroon tunic, the tail brushing against the soft fabric on the bed.

Nodding, Johnny lifted TJ’s chin so they could meet eyes. “Think, little one, because if I agree to mate you, I expect it to be for life, as well. We will be equals. I will not be master, TJ, though I do not mind giving you whatever you feel you need in limitations.” Johnny had never considered mating or the future, but the idea of becoming mates with the beautiful fox didn’t bother him. He felt intrigued and highly interested, and the beauty of TJ called to him deep down in his soul.

“I - - I want that . . .” TJ nodded, “for life.”

“Even without kits, TJ?” Johnny gave his fox-shifter one last chance to withdraw from the coming mating.

“I don’t want kits,” TJ insisted on a needy mewl.

Nodding, Johnny lowered his mouth to caress over TJ’s lips. “Neither do I, actually,” he breathed into his lover. Johnny began caressing TJ’s shoulders and down to his chest, kissing TJ’s ear tip and very lightly nipping it.

Wrapping his arms around Johnny’s neck, TJ let out another high-pitched noise that sounded more like a fox than a human cry of pleasure.

Not stopping, TJ seemed to be enjoying this as much as Johnny, the elf continued nipping down his lover’s shoulder and neck. He caressed his large hands over the small man, kissing his lips over and over. “Have you lain with a man before, my dear?” Johnny asked softly between kisses.

“Yes,” TJ breathed out, chest heaving with his desperation; the shifter canted his hips so his stiff member brushed against Johnny’s.

A low groan of desire broke from low in Johnny’s gut. His member, already beginning to fill, immediately and thoroughly hardened more than it had ever done in Johnny’s varied sexual encounters. He kissed TJ’s lips and dipped his fingers into a small bowl on the nightstand which had seemed empty but turned out to house a very pure oil. Johnny applied kisses generously as he began to stroke over TJ’s opening.

TJ’s hips canted, seeking those fingers; the shifter mewled against Johnny’s lips. His hands moved to run down Johnny's clothed back. Another near yip broke past TJ’s lips, his uninjured leg lifting and wrapping around Johnny’s waist, trying to get the elf even closer. The shifter, normally quiet and subdued, let loose, his natural instincts taking over.

Johnny smiled against TJ’s lips and began to ease two slender fingers into TJ’s passage, watching and listening, feeling his lover’s reactions to make sure he didn’t rush the needy fox. He caressed into the lean man, sliding across TJ’s prostate as he bottomed both fingers out and held still.

Crying out in pleasure, TJ’s back arched off the bed, his fingers tightening around Johnny’s shirt. The cry faded into a high keen; he lifted his hips, trying to push his lover’s fingers in that much deeper.

“Oh, my needy little pet,” Johnny moaned softly into his lover’s neck, “you want more?” Johnny began stroking his fingers inside the shifter’s hot, tight body. Kissing and nipping the tender flesh of TJ’s neck, Johnny continued his long sensuous slide across TJ’s prostate, over and over, driving him towards a first release.

“Yes, yes . . . want more,” TJ begged on a needy growl. As the elf continued to stroke over his prostate, the shifter’s voice dropped off into those high, fox-like noises. He was already so close to his release, never once had he been allowed to have one to himself without penetration.

“Go ahead, darling,” Johnny cooed softly, trying to give TJ the release the elf suspected the fox had never been permitted. “Cum for me, little one. Cum all over us.” He nipped TJ’s neck again, sinking his teeth in lightly but not breaking skin.

With a genuine howl, TJ’s back arched and a tremor ran down his whole body as his member twitched, completely untouched, and covered the light green fabric he still wore with white streaks of cum.

Johnny lifted his face, smiling, as he stroked at TJ’s neck and shoulders, running his fingertips through the fox-shifter’s hair. “Better, my love?”

Mewling, TJ pushed into the touch, butting his head against Johnny’s palm, his ears twitching slightly. The shifter’s skin was flushed and eyes completely blown with release. TJ nodded and then shook his head, another high-pitched rumble, an almost clicking noise announcing the fox’s still lingering need.

Nodding, Johnny pulled away, easing his fingers from the fox’s passage. He tugged the green shift over TJ’s head and off, tossing it aside. Smiling at his needy lover, Johnny unfastened his own trousers and slid them down his hips, revealing his large erection. Tossing the pants aside, Johnny shimmied out of his tunic and let that join the rest of their clothing. “You still need more loving, little one?” Johnny cooed. He reached for the oil and began slicking up his own member generously, never questioning a male fox-shifter wanting to take a more feminine role in the mating cycle; Johnny had seen numerous of nature's beasts reversing roles and no longer questioned it. Humans were the ones who thought _science_ trumped _nature_.

Nodding frantically, TJ made that clicking noise again. The fox started to turn over; he was never permitted to mate with someone face-to-face. TJ moved the fluffy tail out of the way, leaving his passage open for Johnny. Not interrupting TJ’s maneuver, content to let this fox have what was familiar - - he’d introduce more adventurous positions later - - Johnny caressed his hands over TJ’s hips, getting up on his knees behind the shifter. He paused and chuckled softly then leaned down and kissed at TJ’s spine, vertebrae after vertebrae. “You need more opening, my pet?” Johnny knew he’d never be able to give TJ the pleasure of a traditional fox’s mating position: back to back. His own anatomy didn’t bend like that.

TJ shook his head, “no . . . please . . . ready,” the fox managed to breathe out, lowering himself to put most of his weight on his forearms, presenting himself for his new lover.

With a kiss to the back of TJ’s neck, Johnny caressed his hand straight down TJ’s back, right past the tail, then over his passage. Gripping himself, Johnny lined up his member to meet TJ’s passage. He took a deep breath then let it out slowly as he eased into the fox with one smooth, long stroke. Johnny bottomed out, flush with TJ, wrapping both hands securely around TJ’s hips to hold him securely in place, supporting TJ’s weight a bit. “You are perfect, my love, simply perfect,” he cooed.

With an answering coo of his own, TJ rolled his hips back slightly; he’d waited too long to satisfy his urges. The rut was taking over completely . . . he liked how gentle Johnny was with him . . . but right then, he needed something more.

Taking the sound for the desire it was, Johnny began to thrust, his hands firm yet not bruising, remaining aware of TJ’s injured leg. He’d tend his new mate carefully once the rut had eased a bit, but Johnny knew, with neither of them able to bear kits without magical intervention, TJ’s rut could last awhile. Sliding in deeply, over TJ’s prostate, and out smoothly, almost completely, Johnny built the rhythm but kept the gentleness. Even if TJ pressed for rough, Johnny wouldn’t oblige until the fox-shifter was completely well again. Sometimes nature could be painful, and Johnny was in a position to ease her dangerous thrall. Leaning over the leaner man, the blond elf continued his increasing pace, smooth and full, kissing at TJ’s sweat-sheened flesh. “My beautiful, beautiful mate,” Johnny crooned to TJ.

Gasping and mewling with each thrust, TJ met Johnny’s pace easily, though he continued to push for the rough intercourse he was accustomed to. It seemed that with each moment that passed with Johnny, the shifter became less and less submissive . . . pushing for what he wanted. Letting out a growling keen, TJ looked back at Johnny from over his shoulder, eyes begging the elf to go harder, his ears twitching in slight frustration.

Meeting the fox’s lust-blown eyes, Johnny smiled slowly. “Want more, pet?” he asked and began to obey that silent plea, giving TJ a bit harder, pulling the other man to him as he pushed into that sweet passage. “Want to feel me in you? Rock your hips, darling. I’ll hold your weight.” And Johnny let go of TJ’s hip with his strong right hand, wrapping his arm around TJ’s waist to hold his weight off that leg. “Go ahead, little one, take what you need from me.” And, before TJ could respond, Johnny maneuvered them so he was seated under TJ, the shifter still impaled but now riding the elf, tail to the side, still out of the way.

TJ looked at Johnny with wide eyes, never having been in that position before. The shifter let out a series of confused, needy clicking noises, his head tilted ever so slightly, the ears shifting forwards. The new position made him feel fuller, more in control . . . the feeling was just as exciting as it was confusing. His tail slipped over to the side, resting over his uninjured leg.

“Wait a moment, baby and I’ll have you in a less painful position for that leg. Just stay still if you can,” Johnny panted a bit, enjoying the slip and tease of their bodies moving together as he maneuvered them, once more, ending with the pair laying on their sides, Johnny behind TJ but neither using their leg muscles, easing TJ’s injury; this time TJ’s tail was over his exposed hip and flank, Johnny careful to help his mate keep the appendage free. Johnny began to stroke hard and deep once more, picking up his pace as TJ grew accustomed to the new position. He had a feeling the fox-shifter had never been mated in half-fox form by his old masters.

Head falling back to rest on Johnny’s shoulder; once again, the shifter matched his lover’s pace. The rougher, faster rhythm satisfied the urge deep inside him, making TJ keen again. “Yes . . . yes . . .” he mewled on a breathless moan.

Meeting his lover’s needy tone with small moans of pleasure, Johnny continued to thrust into TJ, angling to brush over the fox’s prostate, rolling his hips to increase his depth, his pace, even how rough he got. Moving his lips to the jointure of TJ’s neck and shoulder, Johnny licked and nipped lightly, trying to recall how foxes mated in nature. “Do fox-shifters mark their mates?” he breathed against the flushed, salt-laced skin.

“Yes . . .” TJ managed to confirm, the continual pounding over his prostate made it hard for him to think. The shifter moved one of his hands to tap his fingers against the area where Johnny had just been nipping. “Here . . .”

“Want me to claim you, TJ, pet?” Johnny left the choice up to the other man, though he had no intention of deserting the fox even if the mark was never passed on. He would be here as long as TJ wanted him; something deep inside coiled and ached at the mere thought of leaving this beautiful creature he barely knew. Johnny continued to thrust, loving the yipping, mewling sounds the fox made. He lapped at the spot once more, preparing to follow through with the very violent ritual if that was what his lover wanted.

“Yes . . . want . . . want to be . . . your’s,” TJ answered before yipping again, high and needy.

“Foxes mate for life,” Johnny reminded them both.

“Yes, they do,” TJ nodded, extending his neck to give Johnny easier access.

“Then you will mark me, as well,” Johnny breathed then licked the spot he intended to bite, softening it a bit. He sank his teeth in and bit down, regretting his teeth weren’t built right for the job. Thus, without being able to complete the marking, Johnny lifted his mouth and concentrated, using a small, very controlled amount of enchantment to form his teeth into the normal pointed fox’s teeth. He tried again, this time able to break the skin with ease, finally marking his lover as his own. He thrust deep at the same time.

A loud, high cry escaped TJ’s lips as Johnny sank his teeth into his flesh. The shifter’s hips slipped out of rhythm and he came once more, striping the sheets with his second load. His body thrummed and went limp for a moment.

Johnny held his lover close, their bodies lying on their sides but still entangled in the mating act. He nuzzled at the bleeding mark on TJ’s neck, kissing around the damaged flesh, up the side of his neck along the vein, until Johnny came to TJ’s ear and began whispering soft words of love and pleasure. “My beautiful little one, my precious TJ. My lover, my love,” he murmured. As he sensed TJ recovering, Johnny increased his thrusts enough to bring himself towards release, his hips stuttering out of the smooth rhythm he’d set when they started, breath hitching. “May I fill you with my seed, my love?” he panted.

“Yes . . . yes,” TJ nodded, his hips lazily trying to match the pace though they were slightly off.

At the permission of his lover, Johnny groaned and thrust hard, twice, a third time then growled low into TJ’s skin, his orgasm slamming over the elf. He released a hot load of seed deep into the fox, burst after burst filling and leaking from TJ’s passage, down his legs and joining into the mix of TJ’s cum. He crooned as his orgasm eased, “my beautiful love.”

Panting, TJ cooed, tone clicking in contentment as it faded into a near purring sound.

Johnny buried his face in the back of TJ’s neck, merely holding his lover close, trying to control his own breathing, to calm down so he could get up and clean them both up. But for the moment, he wanted to enjoy being totally embedded in his mate.

**************

A knocking at the doorway made TJ sit straight up, eyes wide as he looked between the curtain and Johnny. At least the shifter didn’t scurry away and try to hide this time.

Frowning as TJ pulled away, Johnny threw himself from the large bed, still covered in their fluids, and flung the curtain open with a growl, “what?” There was no doubt to anyone witnessing that Johnny had been having sex.

Sarah stood there, holding a tray of food and looking at her son with one brow quirked. “I thought I would bring your food . . .”

Nodding, Johnny backed up to let his mother in the room, heading immediately to retrieve washing supplies to clean his lover and himself. “Thanks, Mother. I appreciate it. Most people leave the food and whisper it’s there, so I don’t startle, or TJ in this case.” He was unapologetic that Sarah had caught him having sex nor did he seem embarrassed.

TJ had grabbed the dirtied sheet again and covered his lower half once more. The fox’s streaked, unruly hair stuck up in many different directions, especially around his ears which were higher than a human’s but not on the top of his head, as they were in full fox form.

Turning with the cleaning supplies, Johnny blinked then sighed. “I am sorry,” he flushed. “I wasn’t thinking, TJ, that you might not wish to entertain my mother right now.” He walked over and stroked TJ’s hair.

Blinking, looking shocked, TJ stammered, lowering the sheet a bit,, “I - - I . . . can entertain her if you . . . want . . .”

Johnny looked at TJ for a long moment, thinking back to TJ’s earlier comment about entertaining a group. He shook his head, “not like that!” Johnny stroked again. “Entertain can mean what you’ve been forced to learn or it can mean simply talking, allowing the person to sit near you without touching or staring. I mean the talking, my pet. I never mean for you to entertain sexually or other ways unless you choose. But, if you don’t wish to talk with my mother, I can send her away.” He began to wash TJ’s abdomen and chest tenderly, lovingly.

Sarah watched the two men closely, her eyes locked on the obvious, _fresh_ mate mark on the shifter’s neck. She looked at her son and noticed his teeth were sharply pointed. TJ ducked his head when she looked back at him.

“Hey, hey,” Johnny cooed softly, “you are my mate, TJ, and never have to hang your head again. This is your mother now, too.” He turned to look at the other elf. “Mother, my mate, Thomas. We have married per fox custom.”

Sarah smiled at TJ once the young man managed to lift his head, though the expression didn’t quite meet her eyes. Steve had fallen for a _dragon_ -shifter, and now Johnny had _mated_ a fox-shifter, which happened to mate for life. Neither of her son’s would perpetuate the elf species, and _both_ had fallen for men . . . making children hard to obtain even with magickal means. “Welcome to the family, Thomas . . .”

TJ smiled softly, shyly.

Johnny carefully pulled the sheet back so he could bathe his lover’s reproductive areas. “Mother, I tried to be careful, but could you check his leg to make sure I didn’t cripple my love in our enthusiasm?” Johnny, like many elves, had no embarrassment when it came to the natural processes of reproduction or love. He smiled reassuringly at TJ.

Nodding, Sarah stepped closer; she moved slowly and carefully to avoid spooking the fox-shifter. She frowned at seeing all the scars, even on TJ’s intimate areas. What had his old master's done to him?

Cleaning the cloth, Johnny moved to bathe TJ’s bite mark, making sure it would heal well and clean. He stroked his fingers down his lover’s neck and murmured, “TJ? Can you show Mother your neck?”

“Okay,” TJ agreed, letting his head fall to the side to let the older woman check the mark.

Chuckling, Johnny kissed close to the mark and whispered, “not there, silly love. I mean the back, under your hair.”

“Oh . . .” TJ blinked and nodded, “okay.”

Sarah moved from the leg, which looked to be healing just fine, and up to TJ’s neck.

“I noticed when I first bathed him last night, Mother,” Johnny said, voice serious, eyes worried. He brushed the soft curls from the fox’s neck to display the burn scar.

Sarah’s eyes widened and she let out a small gasp. This fox had been with _Hydra_! “We need to get rid of that scar!” She said, her eyes snapping to look at Johnny, “I have heard that they place tracking spells in those brands!”

“I have no idea where to bring him, Mother. He was already here when I discovered it. The curtain blocks seeking spells, but he can hardly stay in here his entire life. TJ’s a fox, he needs freedom to roam and hunt.” He lifted worried eyes, stroking his lover’s neck gently, letting him sit back up. “And I think it will stop his leg and other injuries from healing completely unless the magic is removed or matched. _They_ are notorious for making their slaves suffer without their magic.” Looking down at his lover, Johnny asked, “TJ? Is it most comfortable to be in this form while resting?” Johnny offered his lover a pillow for his rest.

Nodding, TJ shifted back against the pillows, “yes, Johnny, it - - it feels more natural. My old master’s didn’t let me stay in this form very much.” The shifter ran his own fingers through the soft fur of his tail.

Nodding, Johnny asked, “would you mind letting Mother see your fox form and the curse on it, my precious?”

TJ nodded again and simply shifted, curling up in the center of the bed, where Johnny placed the clean and dry pillow. The bushy tail once more nearly hiding the mammal’s face, though his pale eyes stood out against the lightly streaked dark fur.

Johnny let his mother process the small form, the fact that while TJ was a full grown adult, his fox form still seemed that of a kit. Hydra’s magic was stunting and hurting the shifter.

“Johnny,” Sarah looked over at her son, eyes worried and sympathetic for the poor creature. “I can remove the magic, it might weaken him for a few days but he will recover.”

“And where can I take him to heal? He cannot do that here, Mother. Too many elves are keeping him on edge. He can’t rest in the noise and crowd.” Johnny began washing himself, keeping his back to his mother out of politeness: a man should never display himself to his mother after puberty, even if reproduction was a natural cycle.

“I may have a place,” Sarah sighed; she walked over to the curtain and poked her head out, catching the attention of a guard, “bring Steve up here, now.”

Nodding, the guard softly said, “yes, Sarah.” He hurried off in search of the leader’s elder son.

She turned back to Johnny, “regardless of if my plan carries out, I need to heal him, Johnny. We can figure out a place for him if what I have in mind doesn’t work out.”

“Mother,” Johnny’s voice dropped to a soft, serious tone, his words enunciated so his mother wouldn’t miss what he meant, “I go wherever my husband goes. We are mates for life. This was not a fleeting fancy on my part. My body yearns to be one with him.” He had no idea if TJ could hear every word, but Johnny meant what he said: he would not desert his mate.

“I was not going to separate you from him, Johnny. You have mated him and now you have to take care of him,” Sarah gave her son a soft smile.

“And I look forward to that privilege, Mother,” Johnny smiled back. “I have fallen in _love at first sight_ as the humans foolishly call it. I think they do not know that all souls meet, over and over, through the lives, and TJ must be my soulmate from ages past and for the ages to come.” The elf stood and went to his closet to pull on a pair of soft light grey trousers but left off the shirt.

“Yes, well, let’s make sure your mate heals,” Sarah stepped closer to the bed again, TJ’s ears quirked and twitched at the movement that he could easily hear, though his eyes were hidden from view by the tail. The shifter had been listening to the entire conversation.

“Mother? Johnny?” Steve’s voice came softly from the other side of the curtain. “It’s Steve.”

“Come in,” Johnny said as he slid the curtain back. After his brother walked in, Johnny closed the curtain securely then went to clean up the bed, carefully moving TJ and his soft pillow to the desk. He gathered the dirtied sheets and covers, transferring them to the laundry chute for the laundry workers to care for.

Sarah looked at her oldest son, “Steve, I will heal your dragon’s sister, on one condition that you must pass along to the family.”

“I will pass along your condition, Mother, though I cannot promise agreement on their behalf.” He sat on the floor to listen, respectful and attentive, displaying his years of training in diplomacy.

“Johnny’s mate, TJ,” she gestured to the fox. Steve blinked but didn’t look away from Sarah, nor did he look particularly surprised at the revelation of Johnny’s mated status. “Needs a quiet place to heal after I remove the spells and scars from years of torture by Hydra.”

“And the Hydra finding spell? Can you remove that as well? I will not lead Hydra to the dragons, Mother, even in good intentions.” Steve frowned but showed his trust in Sarah by not glaring or cutting her off.

“I can remove any spells placed on him,” Sarah confirmed, “but it will weaken him significantly for several days.”

Nodding, Steve leaned forward slightly, “and how sick will you become doing this for both the fox and dragon, Mother?”

“I will be fine, Steve,” Sarah waved dismissively, “but both your brother and TJ will be needing a place for TJ to recover. As you can see, TJ’s fox form is not where it should be.”

Nodding, Steve asked, “is that the entire counter-offer, Mother? I bring word to my dragons that you will heal the one if they succor the pair?”

“Yes, I will heal the sister if they agree to house both TJ and Johnny,” Sarah nodded.

“I will bring the offer. I will return with the answer before dawn. If I do not, I have been caught by the enemy.” Steve leapt to his feet.

Johnny straightened slowly from the laundry chute and shook his head, immediately covering Steve’s mouth with a strong hand. “Shhh, both of you,” he ordered harshly. “I’m a fool!”

Johnny let go his brother and headed towards the curtained doorway, twitching the curtain back. Now that the magicked cloth had been pulled back, they could hear confusion and fear among the rushing elves. Johnny covered the doorway once more and headed directly for his closet, pulling on a dark grey tunic. “Mother, Steve, if you wish to live, do as I say. I believe Hydra was able to penetrate us quickly in the few times I had TJ out of this room. You need to pack light and come directly back here. Do not leave this level!” Johnny’s training as a hunter and soldier came to the fore.

TJ’s head perked up, ears flat and lips pulled back in a snarl, the hair on his back standing straight on end.

Grabbing a satchel, Johnny began tossing two pair of trousers, two more tunics, and three shifts for TJ into the bag. He let TJ take his protective stance, moving around the angry fox to grab up a magicks pack and a rations pack, shoving both next to TJ onto the desk. “Watch those, my pet,” he ordered sharply.

Sarah rushed out of the room, going to do as Johnny had ordered.

Steve left the room and made his way to Sharon’s across the way. He threw himself through the doorway without a word, not wanting Hydra to overhear through magic. He thrust Sharon’s lightest travel pack at her and shook his head, eyes wide with warning. Then the elf ran back out, to his own quarters, to pack for his journey. He could do nothing more for the woman and her nymph, but hopefully the warning would be enough. A nymph could travel through water, and if he was strong enough, he could travel one other person with him. Harrison might not be safe, but Sharon, if she acted quickly, could be.

Back in the room, Sarah was already back and speaking in a hushed whisper to her youngest son, “I need to take the spells off now, Johnny. Or they will be able to find him as soon as you leave this room.”

Nodding, Johnny turned to TJ and whispered, “allow my mother anything she wishes, or you might not survive until the dawn, my pet. Trust me in this.” He moved to pull on a thick braided belt then fastened the two packs to it. “Show her your injuries, especially the neck, my little one.”

TJ looked up at Johnny and then blinked once, relaxing himself so he lay with his face on top of his front paws.

“I have seen his injures, Johnny, it will be less harmful for him to shift to his comfortable state for this,” Sarah stepped towards the bed. “It should take the least energy to maintain.”

Nodding, Johnny said, “do as she instructs, my love. I know little of healing.” He rapidly moved around, gathering the supplies he often brought on his journeys but this time trying to fit in enough for two. “Should I go pack your things, Mother?”

On the bed, TJ shifted back to his natural form, ears still attentive and his pale eyes shining with fear. He didn’t want to go back to his old masters, he liked Johnny . . . wanted to stay with his mate.

“My things are packed, dear,” Sarah said as she let her hands hover over the attentive, on edge fox-shifter.

“Clever Mother,” Johnny responded and stopped beside TJ. The elf began forming a sling once more. “TJ, once you are healed, you will be weak. I will carry you to safety. And if you need to hide in fox form, you will be best hidden in this sling so you do not have to exert yourself.”

Sarah worked quickly and thoroughly, removing all the spells and even the scars that marred TJ’s flesh. The only scar she let remain was Johnny’s mate mark. After several minutes had ticked by, she slumped slightly and TJ was nearly unconscious, eyes barely open, body quivering. “Take him, Johnny. Find Steve, he will show you where to go.”

“Mother, you need to leave as well. You are the last of the elvish healers. If you die, we lose all your wisdom,” Johnny protested.

“I will not die,” Sarah assured her son, “but I need to get as many of our people to the underground location as possible. That is my duty as leader, Johnny. Now go.”

Nodding, not protesting though his fear and worry shone in his sapphire eyes, Johnny scooped up TJ’s pillow and shoved it into one of the packs, a decadent bit of luxury in the hearshness coming. He also put in TJ’s control rope before shouldering both packs. Retrieving quiver and bow, Johnny fastened them over his other shoulder, ready for action if needed. He strapped on two knives to his belt, making sure the magickal supplies were secure, then turned and scooped up his weakened mate, supporting his light weight easily.

TJ gave out an exhausted huff and a tiny whimper, slowly laying his head on Johnny’s shoulder.

The burdened Elf hurried to the curtained doorway, looking for Steve.

**************

Steve hurried into his room and glanced over at Sam with wide, horrified eyes. “Sam,” he stepped in the way of his friend, not allowing him to go check on the chaos that slowly grew in volume, “Hydra attacks.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he cursed under his breath; he immediately turned to grab a few of his necessities as well as his own bow.

Satisfied Sam wouldn’t try to play hero, Steve grabbed a pack and threw a couple of changes of clothes into it, followed by other supplies. He, like Johnny, put on a braided rope with packs of rations and magickal supplies. He grabbed for his shield and sword, but recalled the blade was being repaired by the smith. He slid the shield to his back with a frown and reached for his bow and arrows instead, feeling odd to be under attack but without his weapon of war. “I know how Johnny plans to get us out, but he cannot carry three, so I am not sure how he plans to get both Mother and I out. I will insist he take Mother if she hasn’t already gone to the aid of our people.” Steve looked at Sam. “Come with us and you can escape as well.”

Sam nodded, “lead the way,” he moved to start following his friend.

Steve led his best friend to Johnny’s room and slipped in past the curtain, leading Sam inside. If he had not been invited by one of the few allowed past that barrier, Sam would never have been able to get in.

Johnny turned and nodded. “Mother has gone to help our people, but we are under orders to escape, not to defend them. Can you both stand for such orders from our leader?”

“I can, though it does not sit easily,” Steve responded on a frown.

Sam sighed and nodded, “I will respect Sarah’s orders.”

“Good,” Johnny turned and pulled back the awning of entwined branches covering his upper level room as a light roof. He would often open the room to the sky, as many top level elves did. “We fly. I can carry Steve and my mate, Sam. You have mastered flight enchantments, yes?” He immediately signaled Steve to strap TJ lengthwise to Johnny’s body. Steve would have to grab his back and hold on under his own strength.

“Yes, I will be fine,” Sam nodded.

“Then, we will meet where Steve has left his heart.” Johnny felt his older brother grab him roughly and a sudden flame sprang up around them, heating the air and aiding in lifting the light elves and fox-shifter from the floor into the skies. He could not fly far with two passengers, but Johnny could at least make it to Steve’s dragons, he hoped. He merely needed his brother to direct him where to go.

Not a stupid man, Steve directed his brother towards the dragon castle but not directly. Instead, he had the small group land near a waterfall that dropped into the ocean that roved near the castle. Steve bent over and dipped a hand to the water and called, softly, “Sharon. Neal. Are you safe, my friends?” He hoped they were; he unfortunately needed their aid in making sure the castle remained safe from Hydra attentions.

“In here, Steve,” Sharon’s voice called from behind the waterfall; apparently there had been a small cave.

Neal shook his head, water cascading from the dark waves, luminous eyes wide and staring. His skin had taken a bluish hue, his ears sliding into the finned form, gills opening and closing uselessly in the air. Neal had taken to his true Nymph water form.

Nodding, Steve glanced around and sniffed the air then led the other two elves behind the waterfall into the damp cave. He sighed and sank to his haunches, squatting so he didn’t get terribly wet. “Hydra attacks our village,” he explained for Neal and Sharon.

“How did they find you? Your village is not an easy one to find,” Sharon looked confused and worried, her blond hair hanging damply.

Johnny spoke up, “TJ, my mate, escaped from their abuse. I made a foolish error in judgement and brought him from my protective rooms during the dinner, if you recall? Hydra must have been looking for him actively, because they found him, and us.” Johnny’s hand stroked tenderly over his mate’s hair and ears, the fox still strapped to the elf.

TJ shifted and moved, letting out a tired huff and he squirmed weakly.

“Would you rather be in fox form in the sling, my pet?” Johnny asked, looking down and smiling warmly.

Huffing again, TJ used what little energy he had left to shift into a baby fox to the others, his body trembling with the exertion.

Carefully arranging his packs and such, Johnny got the sling adjusted in front then pulled the pillow from his pack to place into the sling.

Huffing again, TJ barely nodded, ears twitching.

Johnny very tenderly lifted his lover and placed the small fox onto the soft pillow, tucking the sling carefully around the fox to protect and hide him. “If that is better, my dear, yip for me once. If not, yip twice.” Johnny knew TJ would not be able to sleep in this form and so he would be completely helpless and weak until the group got to a safe haven where TJ could shift once more.

Letting out a soft, tired yip that faded into a yawn, the shifter laid down on the pillow and let his eyes close again, resting even if unable to sleep for fear of shifting.

Sharon watched Johnny and TJ closely and then moved to look back at Steve. “What is it you need from Neal and I, Steve?”

“I cannot guarantee protection for anyone, but if you would check to make sure Hydra has not found a certain abandoned castle with a lone stag in the front courtyard, it is on the ocean side on a cliff - - if you can make sure that Hydra doesn’t follow us and that we can get there without endangering any who are there, I can try to barter safety for you both.”

“We can make sure you get safe passage,” Sharon nodded.

Johnny panted, “we can fly there in a bit, if the way remains clear and Hydra does not follow my flight path.”

“I do not like sitting here while all our kind is being attacked,” Sharon huffed, “I can heal the injured . . . I feel like I should be there.”

“Sarah ordered us to escape to the castle I mentioned,” Steve said. “She did not say who to bring with us, except that we were to bring Johnny’s mate, TJ. However, Johnny and I obey our leader's orders to hide ourselves.” He dropped his voice, “no matter how it chafes.”

“If we can get to safety and ally with those in the castle,” Johnny said, “we may have a place to hide others while we recover and strike back. Trust me, Sharon, Wood elves are not the kind to give in easily. Our people were not prepared or warned of this attack. We need time to regroup. Sarah is trying to hide as many as she can in other areas, as well.” He lightly stroked the fox’s ears.

“Your father would have you do as Sarah instructs, Sharon,” Neal said softly, his voice a melodious series of notes similar to running water. “He wanted you to mate into this clan, so you should practice obeying their ways. A healer is rare enough and needs sheltering in order to aid those who would fight.”

Johnny met Sharon’s eyes. “Mother lifted the curses Hydra placed on TJ. They cannot use him against us again.”

Sighing, Sharon nodded.

“You’re a healer?” Steve sounded suddenly eager. “Are you learned in the ancient ways of healing shifters?”

“Shifters are common in our parts, Steve,” Sharon looked at the large blond.

Lowering his voice to a bare murmur, Steve clarified, “ _dragon_ shifters?”

Looking surprised, Sharon’s eyes widened and she said, “a dragon shifter hasn’t been seen in over fifty years, Steve.”

Sam shook his head, “you cannot be serious, Steve! We are going back _there_?”

“Yes, Sam, under Mother’s orders this time.” Steve turned to look at his friend then back to Sharon. “Fifty years, yes, but are you able to heal a dragon? At least know the methods and elf magic it takes?”

“Yes, I have read a lot about dragons . . . I never thought I’d actually meet one,” Sharon looked suddenly excited at the prospect.

“Are you willing to offer your healing to a dragon, Sharon?” Steve leaned forward earnestly.

“Just show me where, Steve,” Sharon nodded.

“No, Sharon, I need your oath. These people are of a dying breed. They are frightened, injured, and very defensive. I am barely welcome there myself. If you cannot promise to offer healing and friendship, I cannot lead you to them.” Steve met her eyes. “I am their ambassador, even if they feel they have no hope of representation. I will do what I may to save them, even over elves. There are far less of them than us.”

“Of course, Steve, you have my word,” Sharon sounded as serious as she looked.

“And Neal? Will you offer your oath to bring no danger on these people?” Steve turned to the nymph.

Bowing his head in long thought, finally Neal looked back up and placed his hands on his belt. “I will not knowingly bring harm to these dragons, Steve. I respect and acknowledge your ambassadorship for these people.” He turned and squatted down, sliding his hand in the water and wriggling his fingers, letting out a soft song. After a moment, without removing his hand, he looked at Steve. “The nymphs agree to respect your new status. If they have arguments with dragons, which is rare for the water people, they shall seek you out for redress.”

Huffing again, TJ’s head hung out from the sling to look at the others in the room, his eyes slowly blinking open.

Stroking his mate’s ears, Johnny seriously met his brother’s eyes. “I feel I can speak on behalf of my mate. We will not bring harm to the dragons if they will not bring harm to us. It is an even bargain, is it not, TJ? One yip is agreement, my pet.”

TJ yipped, pale eyes sluggishly moving to look at Steve.

“Sam?” Steve turned to his best friend. “I can leave you here, where you will be safe, if you cannot stomach going to the dragons.”

Sighing, Sam ran his hand through his hair and then nodded, “I can promise I won’t willingly bring them harm, Steve.”

Nodding, Steve said, “Neal, can you check the waters and make sure no Hydra has found us or them? That we are undetected and not a danger to my friends?”

With a glance to Sharon, the bodyguard rose to stand, ready at her command.

“Will you take us?” Sharon asked, looking over at Steve.

“I will if Hydra is not a threat. Neal can travel the waters to the castle by the sea and return. He can report if Hydra is still ignorant of the dragons. If he can honestly report this, I will bring this group to my friends and beg their safety. In return, I will offer your healing attempts in the place of my mother, who has already agreed to try to heal the injured dragon in their family.” He didn’t tell them just how many dragons they’d be up against.

Looking to Neal, Sharon nodded once.

Without further pause, the nymph dove into the water and disappeared quickly. The rest of the group could do nothing but wait for his return.


	6. Sanctuary

“Bucky!” Becca’s tones were excited as she sat in her padded chair overlooking the ocean. “Bucky!”

Rushing into the room, Bucky looked at his sister with wide eyes. 

She leaned precariously forward, almost tumbling from the chair, watching the shore eagerly. “A nymph!”

Looking out at the shore, Bucky’s eyebrows rose, “they don’t come this close to shore very often.”

“He’s not a sea nymph, Bucky! He’s a river nymph! What’s he doing coming from the ocean? Wouldn’t that make him sick?” She looked up at her brother then back at her companion before settling her gaze once more on the staggering, panting nymph slowly approaching the castle.

Frowning, Bucky stepped away from his sister; he left the room without another word and headed towards the struggling nymph. He eyed the creature warily.

The male straightened, and it became instantly apparent why he wasn’t ill: an elvish amulet of water wrapped around his throat, providing fresh, desalinated water to caress over his gills with every breath. He lifted a webbed hand and called, “hail the castle! I come in peace with a message of war!”

“War?” Bucky called back.

“Are you of the dragons who are represented by the elf ambassador Steve?” the nymph asked.

“Steve?” Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly, “I have met him, yes, though when he left he didn’t represent us. That is news to me.”

“He does now, and with good purpose, my friend. I am Neal of the River People, but am guard to Sharon of the Sea Elves. We were enjoying the hospitality of the woodland realm when Hydra attacked. Under strict orders to hide in order to regroup, Steve and two others, as well as Sharon, I, and a fox, have escaped to a waterfall nearby. But now, Steve will not allow us to seek your aid without our promise that Hydra will not find you. I have spotted no Hydra on the way nor are they looking towards your haven. May I return to Steve and tell him you will hear our plea?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Bucky said firmly, “you can take me to him. We can discuss why he gave our location out right away.”

“He gave it to me because the water peoples have no argument with your people.” Neal turned towards the waters. “Have you traveled through water before, dragon?” Unlike the elves, the nymphs did not use titles for other cultures in an attempt to appease, they used racial terms, such as elf or dragon. If those they addressed wished other titles, they would tell the nymphs. As if thinking the dragon needed more explanation, Neal added, “Steve refused to give anyone leave to come near you even in their need. The fox is ill and the elves are exhausted. But Sharon brings the offer of elf healing as a bargain for our safety. It is the main reason Steve seemed willing to strike this bargain, as his mother is trapped and might not make it out to aid you in fulfilling her promise to heal one of the family.”

Nodding once, Bucky knew that he _could_ travel by water but he didn’t want to leave his sister or Natasha with the threat of Hydra lurking about. “Bring them here,” he agreed.

“Shall I bring them only to shore, dragon, or allow them to approach?” the nymph apparently took the peace between their people as seriously as Steve seemed to have.

“They can approach,” Bucky agreed.

With a single nod, Neal dove into the waves and disappeared from view.

Clint’s voice came softly from behind Bucky. “What does a nymph ask of a dragon?” His bow was knocked, indicating he would have fired on the messenger if he felt the dragon had been threatened.

“Your people are under attack, Clint,” Bucky said simply, turning on his heel and heading back towards the castle.

“They are?” Clint followed at a trot, frowning, arrow loose in one hand, bow in the other. “When? Why?” He didn’t seem inclined to go to their aid.

“Earlier today, I’d imagine. And sounds like Hydra,” Bucky spat the name out as if it burned him.

Nodding, frowning severely, Clint continued to follow the dragon, still not breaking off towards the woodland realm. “Hydra would,” he growled.

Bucky nodded, not commenting. He made it back to the castle and headed up to his sister’s room. “Becca, we are having company,” he informed her.

“Nymphs?” she asked, smiling happily. “It’s been ages since the dragons hosted the nymphs. I was wondering if we’d angered them or something.” She turned to look at Natasha. “Have you ever met the water people?”

“I’ve met them before, though it’s been awhile,” Natasha answered.

Bucky informed, “and no, our guests are not the nymphs, Becca. That elf from earlier and several others, including an ill fox? I’m guessing that’s the injured animal Steve was talking about that his brother saved.”

“Oh! A shifter maybe? Or just a regular fox?” Becca forced herself to stand on her injured, still bleeding leg, the wound repeatedly reinjuring itself even after all the years since the initial injury.

“The nymph didn’t say,” Bucky shook his head, “though he did say that they are bringing an elf that may be able to heal you.” He didn’t make any promises to his injured sister; he had long learned not to get his hopes up.

“And if they fail, can we eat them?” Becca asked, all hint of a joke hidden behind her serious expression.

“Perhaps,” Bucky teased in return.

“How long, oh!” Becca’s eyes caught on something outside once more and she stood there at the balcony opening, shading her eyes and watching. “Fire!”

Bucky instinctively stepped in front of his sister, as if protecting her from a threat. He watched the new arrivals with a hint of wariness.

One figure, seeming larger than a normal being, was sheathed in flames and appeared to be sporting two heads, though that could just be the shape of the fire. Another figure pulled out of the water, revealing himself as the nymph carrying someone else. A third figure was that of a lone being with large, graceful wings spread in the sky, resembling a raptor. The two fliers landed next to the nymph, who placed his burden on the beach before collapsing to his hands and knees. The fire dissipated and Steve broke away from the other blond’s sure grip, revealing a second elf who resembled Steve enough to almost pass as twins, though Steve was slightly larger and definitely thicker in the muscles. The other figure with raptor wings let his feathers shift back into arms upon landing, revealing a dark-skinned elf.

“I had no idea elf magic was so varied!” Becca breathed in fascination.

“Neither did I,” Bucky turned from the balcony to go and greet the group at the back door, Natasha following behind. Clint knocked his bow once more and followed Bucky steadily, still intent on protecting his charges.

Becca blew out in frustration for the limitation her injuries instilled on her. “Great, everyone run ahead! I’ll just walk at a sedate, stately pace, shall I?”

Bucky didn’t turn back to aid his sister, too on edge from their new guests. He hurried down the steps that led to the front door and opened it. The stag was still hanging around in the courtyard, grazing; it seemed to be comfortable there.

Steve approached first, letting the others catch up slowly in their exhaustion. He bowed formally to Bucky. “Bucky, I am sorry to impose on you yet again, but my small group needs shelter until TJ heals and we can move on. Neal assures me no Hydra saw our approach.”

Bucky’s eyes scanned the group, looking for an obviously injured member, though he couldn’t see one.

The elf resembling Steve panted as he strode up, but there was determination in his eyes and he kept an arm protectively around the sling he wore, not in it. He bowed carefully, trying not to shift the sling, which seemed over full, perhaps with an infant. “Our hosts, I thank you on behalf of my Mother, Sarah, and my mate, TJ, for allowing us to approach.” He seemed to be exhausted but stood, trembling, in respect.

“This is my younger brother, Johnny, and his . . . mate, TJ. This is Sam, my companion, and guests to our realm during the attack: Sharon and Neal.” Steve looked at Bucky. “My mother agreed to heal your kin, but she could not come. Sharon is a healer among the Sea elves and wishes to try.”

Bucky looked at the group for a moment, still missing the injured fox and TJ, who had been identified as Johnny’s mate. “It seems you are down a member, Steve.”

Whirling in stunned horror, Steve counted his companions then sighed and shook his head, “no, Mother stayed to try to get others to safety. We were under strict orders to come to you for aid, actually,” he looked back at Bucky.

Johnny finally sank to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer, despite manners. He untied the sling with trembling arms and spread the cloth enough to reveal the small fox. Taking the creature from the pillow with tender care, Johnny lay TJ on the grass and smiled tiredly. “Real grass below your paws, my little one,” he crooned softly.

TJ huffed, blinking slowly at Johnny, his paws shifting weakly to rub against the grass.

Smiling in pleasure, Johnny glanced up, “Mother was able to heal him, but TJ will be unable to care for himself or even carry his own weight for some days. Hopefully, as he strengthens, he will grow. Even if you cannot harbor us, give me time to catch my strength and we’ll leave once more.”

“You all may come inside and rest, we will discuss more later,” Bucky gestured to the still opened door; he frowned at Steve, “Steve, I wish to talk with you, though.”

Nodding, Steve straightened and offered a hand to Neal, helping him back to his feet. He turned to check on Sam and Sharon then moved to aid Johnny in getting TJ back onto his pillow in the sling. Steve finally followed Bucky, letting Natasha and the suspicious Clint aid the rest of the small group.

Bucky led Steve into the same room where the blond had first met the dragon. In a quiet, but harsh voice, Bucky seethed, “what is your brother doing mating a _kit_?”

Blinking in shock, having expected any other attack but _that_ , Steve shook his head. “TJ’s not a kit. He’s full grown!”

Looking at Steve incredulously, Bucky crossed his arms, “oh? That fox doesn’t look older than a kit, Steve. Even if he is a shifter, your brother is still mating a _child_.”

Shaking his head, Steve ran a hand over the back of his neck. “TJ has been held as a torture slave to Hydra for several years. He escaped and Johnny found him and offered to help the _kit_. He brought him back to our home and, when TJ shifted to half-form, discovered that TJ’s done puberty already. He’s a full grown, if young, man. Hydra’s evil curses keep his fox form locked in kit size, Bucky, but once he gains strength and is able to shift again, you’ll see the truth.”

“And you’ve seen his half- form yourself, not just trusting the word of your brother,” Bucky pressed, arms still crossed in front of his chest.

“Actually, yes, even if it was briefly. We were both at a dinner for Sharon and the other guests earlier this evening. TJ went into rut and Johnny took him from the dinner. I assume during that time, my brother determined he wanted to be life partners with the fox-shifter, so they are now mated.” Steve sighed and shook his head. Meeting Bucky’s pale eyes, Steve suddenly looked stunned and began to circle Bucky. “TJ looks like you, actually!” Steve couldn’t believe he hadn’t linked the pretty fox’s looks earlier to the very attractive dragon.

“He looks like me?” Bucky frowned.

Nodding, Steve stopped in front of Bucky. “Yes, he does. He could pass for a younger brother.” Steve shook his head. “Is it possible there is a fox-shifter in the family? Or one of your relatives mated one? TJ’s hair is dark like yours, and curls, but he has platinum colored streaks from his winter changes. A snow fox-shifter?”

“I . . .” Bucky ran his right hand through his long hair, “my father was unfaithful to my mother . . . it’s possible . . .”

Nodding, Steve offered a hesitant smile. “Mother _did_ promise to heal Becca, Bucky. But she wouldn’t leave if there was a chance to get more of our people into hiding. I would have stayed behind, but she insisted Johnny and I take TJ and come to you. She wanted TJ to rest in safety here. I understand if you don’t want us here, but I was very careful to make sure we weren’t followed by Hydra. It’s why we took to water and air instead of land.”

“You all can stay, but I want that healer to look at Becca as soon as she is able. Becca’s getting worse.”

“Mother reminded me that I should have asked how she was injured,” Steve said softly.

“A poisoned blade,” Bucky sighed and shook his head, “Hydra attacked us . . . and she got stabbed,” he looked like there was something else he wanted to add but he didn’t say anything else.

“I can go see if Sharon will try now? She was like me, a passenger only, so neither of us should be exhausted.” Steve watched Bucky with worried, searching eyes, not pressing the dragon for his thoughts.

“If she can,” Bucky nodded, stepping out of the room, “like I said, Becca’s getting worse.”

Steve trotted out and over to Sharon, taking her arm and whispering in her ear, “the injured dragon was hit with a poisoned blade, a Hydra attack some time ago. She’s getting worse as we speak.”

Nodding, Sharon looked at Bucky, “I’ll see what I can do for her. May you take me to her?”

“I can take her if you want, Bucky,” Steve offered.

“We can all go,” Bucky said, gesturing for the two elves to follow him.

Johnny drew in a deep breath and rose shakily to his feet, bringing the sling with him. “Rest, my love, I have you safe,” he crooned, preparing to obey the dragon and accompany him, despite his continued exhaustion.

Turning to look at Johnny, Bucky said over his shoulder, “third door on your right. That is a room you two can use to rest.”

Johnny nodded. “TJ, you should shift into half-fox form so you can sleep and heal faster,” he instructed softly, turning to stumble towards the indicated room.

Neal curled up and merely breathed deeply of the magic amulet’s water across his gills. He seemed content sprawled in the middle of the floor beside Sam. Clint looked at Sam and frowned, hand ready to knock and draw an arrow. “I’ll tend the nymph if you wish to accompany the others. Natasha can make sure you behave, Sam.”

Sam nodded and followed Natasha where Bucky was already leading Sharon and Steve.

Becca had apparently given up on trying to make it from her room. She had gotten from the balcony to her bed and merely collapsed to the sturdy surface, laying backwards, legs dangling over the edge. At the sound of footsteps, she didn’t even bother to turn her head, calling out, “oh? Excitement over enough to come tell me what’s going on? Do we help them or eat them?”

“Becca, this is Sharon,” Bucky gestured to the elf, “she’s going to see if she can help you.”

Turning her head, pale eyes falling on the blond elf, Becca offered a look of curiosity but not welcome. However, when her eyes roved past Sharon then Steve, Becca’s breath caught. She slowly, painfully, pushed up to a sitting position, never taking her eyes off the sight of an elf with dark skin, a rare creature in itself, and said to be quite magical. There were legends of dragon freedom coming on the wings of a dark elf. She didn’t see wings, but that didn’t bother the fanciful woman. Instead, she offered a brilliant smile. “Please tell me you’re Sharon?” she asked the dark elf, ignoring the more common blondes.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sam said, letting his eyes rove over the dragon’s body, her beautiful scales, iridescent purple and chasing blues. The gauze covering the dragon’s intimate areas only made Sam wish to see more. “Name’s Sam, ma’am. Thank you for housing us,” he bowed respectfully to her.

Smiling still, Becca softly said, “Samam . . . a very unusual name. You are certainly welcome here. If you threaten us, I eat you.”

Laughing softly, Sam straightened, “that is an acceptable threat.”

“Threat? Have you been threatened?” She giggled, her voice almost a low purr. “I was making a delicious promise.” She leaned closer towards the elves, still ignoring the stunned Steve and the female Sharon.

Bucky watched the two with a growing frown; he cleared his throat, “Becca, let _Sharon_ take a look at you.”

Nodding, Becca tore her eyes from Sam’s lovely deep brown ones and met Sharon’s blue. Smiling at the woman who would attempt to save her life, Becca reached to her waist and unfastened her skirts. She threw them back, revealing the lower scales and a very horrific oozing tear from the hinge of her hip down practically to her knee. Her eyes flicked to Sam’s to see his reaction, noting Steve respectfully turned away.

Sam couldn’t turn away, not only was the young woman’s body quite beautiful, but his eyes seemed to focus on the nasty looking gash. Sharon stepped closer and lifted her hands over the wound, “black magic . . .”

“Yes,” Becca agreed simply, her eyes once more focusing on the blond elf. “A sword covered in a vile red substance that pitted the blade and made it smoke even as it was thrust into my flesh. I felt fire and bile roil through me and wished, many times, to die from it. I’ve gotten used to the tearing burns now, but I feel worse by day and have begun to vomit all of my food. We fear I won’t survive the season, though Bucky holds hope I will yet be strong enough, even after years of fighting this curse.”

Sam frowned fiercely, “do you not hold hope?”

“Natasha and Bucky have tried for some time, Bucky since the day I was struck, to find the healing charms or anti-curses or herbs or salves. Nothing’s worked, many things have made it worse.” She finally looked back at Sam and shook her head. “If it wasn’t for Bucky, I’d be dead already, Samam.”

Stepping closer, Sam looked at the wound with attentive eyes; he pushed Sharon’s hands out of the way as something caught his eye. “A piece of the sword is still in the wound!”

Watching Sam, noting the trouble he had getting further into her wound, Becca slipped her taloned fingers into the cut and ripped sideways, pulling the festering flesh apart. “Better?”

Nodding once, Sam didn’t waste any time before digging into the flesh and pulling out a small piece of red, pitted, and rusted blade.

Steve turned completely away, unable to watch the stoic young woman damage herself. It was probably one of the reasons he never had an affinity for healing; he couldn’t stomach the sight of putrid flesh. Bucky looked to be having the same issues but didn’t turn away, his arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to comfort himself.

“I didn’t even see that,” Sharon sounded surprised, “I didn’t know you were a healer, Sam.”

“Sarah’s apprentice, actually,” Sam added absently.

Steve looked at Sharon, avoiding the wounded Becca, “Sam didn’t seem inclined to bother the dragons so I never suggested his aid.” It was a very polite way of saying that Steve thought Sam would refuse outright.

“Between Sharon and I,” Sam said, “we should be able to lift whatever curse has poisoned you.”

Nodding, Becca smiled, “I hear the sea is good for healing, and Sharon is a Sea elf? Perhaps _she’ll_ even let me learn to swim.” Becca looked sideways at her brother.

“Perhaps,” Bucky said simply, “please heal her,” the dragon’s voice took a pleading tone that made him sound vulnerable, _scared_.

Sam looked over at Steve, trying to communicate with his friend without words that Bucky should be removed from the room.

“Come, Bucky, let’s let them work without distraction.” Steve reached over and touched Bucky’s left arm, gasping very softly as his fingers caressed lightly over those beautiful silver scales.

Looking over, Bucky frowned and nodded, letting Steve lead him from the room so Sam and Sharon could work. Natasha followed them out, though she went in a different direction than the two males.

Clint looked up from the place he had assumed beside Neal, his bow finally put away, arrow back in the quiver. He glanced at the actually sleeping nymph then looked back up and stepped away to intercept Natasha. Softly, sounding worried rather than his normal protective growl, the elf asked the dragon, “will she live?”

“The two elves sound hopeful. They will try,” Natasha reported.

Nodding, Clint stepped right up next to the red and black scaled woman, “Sam is Sarah’s best apprentice. If any of our people can help Becca, short of Sarah herself, it will be Sam.”

“I fear what will happen if they can’t,” Natasha sighed and shook her head, “but hopefully my fears will be in vain.”

“If she cannot be saved, it will not be from lack of effort by Sam. Bucky must know that,” Clint murmured. He reached out and very gently touched the scales across the back of her neck. “You have to rest, Natasha. You’ve been trying so long, it’s time to let someone else take the fight.”

Natasha looked over at Clint; she leaned in slightly into the touch, “we cannot lose another one of our kind. Not one so young.”

“There are enchantments to allow a female dragon to carry a pure child even if the sire was once something else, spells that can convert the fetus, purify the flesh and blood,” Clint murmured.

“Yes, there are,” Natasha looked at Clint, her emerald eyes met the blond’s blue grey.

“Don’t dragons bear young in protective shells? Up to five in a clutch?” Clint asked, caressing the scales very lightly. “Or is that just rumor?”

“That is true, only if we can phase into our true forms though. We can bear one child at a time in this form,” Natasha explained.

“So, if you mate in this form, can you phase into dragonic form to bear the eggs then back to this one to keep them safe?” Clint asked softly, as if the questions were merely academic.

“It’s possible, though I haven’t heard of such a thing done before,” Natasha explained on a sigh.

“How difficult is it to shift forms, Natasha?” Clint asked, stepping around to behind her, lifting his other hand and sliding his bow to it’s hook on his quiver. He began to massage the tension in her neck, her shoulders, her upper back.

“It wouldn’t be difficult at all if I allowed myself to do it more often. I haven’t shifted in over three years,” she let out a moan of pleasure as the elf massaged her tense muscles.

“Would it be easier if, say, someone magicked himself into a dragon form to mate with a female dragon? Then she could stay that way until she delivers and will not have to worry about shifting once pregnant . . .” Clint kissed the scales on her neck very gently, a tender caress of his lips over the gleaming red and black natural armor.

“Clint,” Natasha looked at the blond elf, turning in his embrace, “you realize how much space we’d need for such a thing?”

“And the catacombs under the castle aren’t big enough for a dragon mating and clutching?” Clint asked, brushing his lips over hers.

“You would . . . do that? Enchant yourself into another form . . . for . . .” she let the sentence die off, watching the elf closely.

“Natasha, my love, I would bear the young _for_ you if I thought it would help,” Clint murmured. He kissed her again. “Whatever you need, I wish to provide, or have none of my nighttime promises fallen on receptive ears?”

Humming softly, Natasha kissed Clint’s lips, “you may have to remind me again.”

“I will remind you until my final breath, my love,” he tilted his head to seal their mouths, hands grasping her waist to pull her flush to his body.

**************

Steve led Bucky to another room, glancing around the decor and determining by the masculine flavor that it must be Bucky’s. He reluctantly let go of Bucky’s arm, eyes locked on the beautiful dragon. Softly, he said, “I’ve never seen Sam fail. If he does, it will be after a struggle as if for his own life, Bucky. Sam is committed to aiding his patients.”

Bucky sank to the edge of the unmade bed, running his scaled fingers through his long hair, ruffling it. “It’s been years, Steve . . . and . . .” the dragon shook his head, letting out a deep sigh.

“Is it cruel of me to say I am glad it was Hydra and not my people who hurt you so badly?” Steve sank onto the bed next to Bucky. “I was afraid maybe my . . . my father might have been the one to hurt her.” He raised troubled blue eyes to meet Bucky’s pale blue ones.

“No, Steve, your father didn’t hurt her . . .” Bucky swallowed thickly; he couldn’t force himself to look at the elf, eyes fixed firmly on his hands in his lap.

Steve reached over, hesitated, then took Bucky’s hands, letting his fingers caress over those wonderfully smooth, almost magical feeling scales. “Bucky, I swear, if my mother can make it, and Sam and Sharon cannot succeed, I will get her here to help. I’m sure that Sam can keep Becca alive that long!” he swore fervently.

Looking over at Steve, Bucky’s pale eyes searched the elf’s face, “I don’t understand . . . I’ve just met you but I feel like I _know_ you.”

Smiling softly, Steve nodded. “I felt it the moment I saw you, angry as you were. I _knew_ we were soulmates, Bucky.” He drew a breath. “The elves have a belief in the line of life, Bucky. At time’s beginning, souls are matched. As they die and are reborn, they can find one another again and are drawn to be with one another. This continues until the end of that line, the end of time. I . . .” Steve reached over a hand and lifted Bucky’s chin, “I believe we were united at the beginning and will be together until the end of the line.”

Bucky met Steve’s eyes, “soulmates?”

“Yes, Bucky. No matter what form our souls chose to be born in, we will always be drawn to the other soul. Our souls are mated. It is why when Johnny announced he was mated to a fox-shifter only the day after saving him, we accepted it. Because we knew they were meant to be. When you see TJ awake and in his bipedal form, you’ll see what I mean. It’s impossible to miss soulmates when they spot one another.”

“And . . . we’re,” Bucky licked his lips, looking nervous and anxious, “we’re gonna be . . . mates?”

“I believe so, Bucky, but I don’t want you to feel we _have_ to be. That is up to you.” Steve offered a gentle smile now that he’d gotten his own feelings across. “I’m content to wait forever for you to be ready.”

“I don’t know, Steve,” Bucky sighed, “I - - you don’t even know me . . . I don’t know you . . .”

Nodding, Steve accepted the protest. “I understand. While you allow me to remain in your home, perhaps you’d also let me try to get to know you?” He looked at the beautiful dragon, hope in his vivid eyes.

“I think . . . I think I’d like that, Steve,” Bucky nodded, giving the elf a small smile.

Looking down at where he held Bucky’s hand, Steve said, “I promise not to try to kiss or handle you unless you ask, Bucky. I can even stop grabbing your hand. I don’t want you to feel forced. Apparently elves have beliefs dragons don’t share.” Steve smiled back up at Bucky, apparently once more not bothered by the possibility of having to wait, maybe years, for Bucky.

“I like you holding my hand,” Bucky said before he could stop himself. As soon as the words left his mouth he flushed lightly.

Steve chuckled and nodded, keeping the touch to just holding hands, not trying for more intimacy. “I know it’s not a happy subject, but did you and Becca have other siblings? Or were you from a small family?”

Looking at Steve, Bucky took a deep breath, “it was just Becca and me. Well,” Bucky laughed, an almost bitter sound, “that we know of, of course. It turns out I may have other siblings. Father didn’t like to be tied down.”

“And your mother?” Steve asked gently, trying to get to know the dragon, even if the past was not an easy subject. It was, after all, what Bucky himself had said he wanted: to know Steve and Steve to know him.

Smiling softly, Bucky said, “my mother was good. She was kind and wanted what was best for Becca and me. How about you? I know you said your father . . . died, but how is it being the son of a leader?”

Steve nodded. “My father was the leader before Mother, but with his death, she was voted into his place. I was raised to replace her if the others voted me in . . . I was prepared.” falling silent, Steve softly said, “I know that sounds odd, let me try again? I was raised in politics, diplomacy, and leadership. I was instructed how to provide for and defend a large group, or a small group, of people so they could survive and even thrive. I was given the education desired in a leader among elves in the hopes that I would someday be elected. I have also been trained as a soldier, because we cannot avoid the outside world. I can hunt, but do so to put creatures out of their misery or to capture animals for a needy group of neighbors who need meat. The only thing I could not master was healing.” He looked at Bucky and smiled, caressing his fingers lightly over the scales on the back of the dragon’s hand.

“Johnny was born a few years after I was, but he was just a small child when Father died. He wanders far and wide, restless, always searching, always roaming. He couldn’t master healing, either,” Steve smiled. “I think he was looking for TJ, actually, just none of us knew. It isn’t often we locate soulmates outside of the elves, but it happens and is accepted when it does.”

“Did you want to be the ruler of your kind? Do you still want to?” Bucky asked, letting Steve touch and feel his scales.

“At one time I wanted it because it was what I was educated for. I didn’t see any reason to try for another career.” Steve chuckled, “then I met you and your kin and realized I could do so much if I could champion the dragons. If that is as a diplomat, or as an elvish leader, so be it, but I feel a calling now, and I intend to find out as much as I can about draconic kind so I can defend and champion them correctly.” Steve turned slightly so he faced Bucky better. “If your sister hadn’t been injured, was there something you might have wanted to do with your life?”

“I have cared for my sister for my whole life Steve, our parents died when were only children and I’ve never given much thought to anything else,” Bucky shrugged one shoulder.

“Did you have no one to teach you your own culture or abilities?” Steve looked surprised.

“Natasha is teaching us,” Bucky answered on a sigh, “and I am slowly understanding what I can do.”

“And do you plan to find Becca a mate?” Steve asked gently.

“I plan to let her do what makes her happy, if that’s finding a mate, that’s her business. I am not going to force her though,” Bucky sighed and shook his head, “though, I saw the way your friend was looking at her.”

“Sam seemed as enthralled with her as I am with you, Bucky. Elves love beauty and grace.” He offered his gentle smile to Bucky, “but I think you know what you witnessed, don’t you?”

“Soulmates?” Bucky supplied quietly.

“I’m sorry if it doesn’t please or even endangers your people, Bucky. I can say that with the way Sam feels for her, he would die before failing her.” Steve lifted Bucky’s hand but didn’t kiss the fingers he so desired touching his lips to. Instead, he tilted Bucky’s hand to watch the light chase over the silver scales. “Does it hurt to be bipedal, Bucky?”

“Hurt?” Bucky shook his head, “no, it doesn’t hurt. It’s not like other shifters I am told, though. Since our natural forms are quite large . . . that is why the scales show through, even in this form.”

“They are very beautiful, Bucky. You look touched by lightning the way they shine.” Steve lowered their entwined hands. “Your sister’s scales aren’t the same color and have a different cover pattern than yours. Is that normal for siblings, or is that due to your father’s proclivity to wander?”

“The color of a dragon’s scales are passed on genetically,” Bucky informed, “though, I am curious about something. If that fox-shifter is Becca’s and my brother . . . would he be part dragon?”

Steve let go of Bucky’s hand, looking stunned. He rose to his feet and frowned, heading for the door. “My stars, that might be why Hydra wants him! I have to warn Johnny! Thank all that shines that Mother lifted his tracer from him before we left the realm.” Steve took off from Bucky’s room, intent on giving his unwitting brother the dangerous information he’d just learned.

Bucky followed, wanting to get a second glance at the young shifter that may be his youngest sibling. “Would he have scales?” Bucky seemed intrigued by the idea of a fox _and_ dragon-shifter.

Stopping on the steps, Steve swayed, eyes wide and staring at the couple kissing in the entryway.

“They’ve been together for quite some time,” Bucky didn’t look shocked by the elf and dragon kissing.

Softly, Steve crossed past the couple, not drawing their attention from one another, surprised and understanding Clint’s very protective attitude at last. It was perhaps understandable the other elf had drawn a bow on the leader’s son if Steve appeared to be a threat to Clint’s chosen lover. Once past the entryway, Steve led Bucky to the room set aside for Johnny and his TJ. He knew better than to knock and startle the occupants. Instead, he opened the door softly, just enough to call “Johnny? TJ? It’s Steve and Bucky.”

Opening his eyes, Johnny pushed up to sit on the bed, not even bothering to cover his nude state, though there were no signs of the elf having attempted a mating with the fox, at least. He looked to the doorway and yawned. “Come in and close the door? I feel safer with the barrier.”

The only movement TJ made was the slight perking and twitching of his ears as the two men stepped into the room. He’d shifted back into his half-form and watched Bucky and Steve with his tired, pale eyes.

Steve walked in, leading Bucky, and shut the door per his brother’s request. He walked over to the bed and sank onto the very edge. Gently, Steve asked, “TJ? Are you strong enough to answer verbal questions or should we wait longer?” Thinking, he added, “if you want us to _wait_ , nod your head.”

TJ looked at Johnny and then back at the other two in the room, “I can talk.”

Standing, Steve walked over to the curtain across the window and cracked it enough to let light in the room, revealing everyone for one another's sight. “TJ, this is Bucky, our host . . . a dragon. Bucky, this is TJ, my brother’s mate . . . a fox.”

Bucky looked at TJ with wide eyes. There was no doubt that they were somehow related. The dragon was relieved that the shifter was as mature as Steve had claimed.

“By the stars and moon,” Johnny swore, eyes widening. He’d been too tired, too distracted, when he’d spoken to his host earlier. Johnny looked at the beautiful fox-shifter beside him then back at the dragon.

TJ tilted his head, mimicking his actions he often did in fox-form. He sluggishly moved to get under the covers, now that he had the choice _not_ to be seen by unwanted eyes, the shifter liked to cover himself. Johnny reached over to tug the covers over his mate’s nudity, covering him neck to toes.

Steve sank back on the edge of the large bed and offered a gentle smile. “We haven’t spoken much, TJ, and I’m sorry there hasn’t been time. I’m going to ask some difficult questions. For yes, nod but for no, shake your head, unless you think you can speak. Okay?”

“Okay,” TJ said, pale eyes flickering to look at the dragon that look a lot like himself before settling back on Steve.

“You were young when you were kidnapped for abuse, correct?” Steve asked.

“By my old masters,” TJ confirmed with a nod.

“Yes,” Steve nodded in confirmation at the clarity. “When you were stolen, were you with your family?”

“T - - they killed my family,” TJ answered softly, “they spared me . . .”

“I understand,” Steve sighed. “The family they killed. Did that include dam _and_ sire?” Steve stuck with yes and no questions, though TJ seemed up to talking.

TJ shook his head, “no . . . just my dam, grand-dam and my brother.”

Nodding, Steve looked to Bucky then back to TJ. “Do you remember your sire at all?”

“My dam said that my brother’s and my sire was killed by hunters,” TJ answered, “she said that was the reason why she was always sick.”

Carefully, Steve asked, “TJ, this question isn’t going to be so simple. When the old masters had you, did they keep trying to remove body parts, skin or stuff, from you?”

Shifting uncomfortably, TJ’s eyes flickered to look at Bucky again, who looked worried and a little sick. Looking back at Steve, TJ answered, “they did lots of stuff to me . . .” the youth picked at the edge of the blanket.

Reaching over to take Bucky’s hand, slowly showing it to TJ, Steve asked, “did you ever have scales like this, TJ? Even if they weren’t silver or on your arm?”

Looking fearful, TJ swallowed and nodded, “on - - on my leg . . .”

“And that’s why it wasn’t healing!” Steve looked to Bucky then back to TJ. “And as he gets older, more will show, correct, Bucky?”

Bucky looked at Steve, “I don’t know . . . I’m not sure how much the fox’s flesh is mixing with the dragon’s and how much that is affecting them both.”

Nodding, Steve asked, “do you think Natasha might know?” He smiled soothingly at TJ and explained, “because you look so much like Bucky, we thought maybe you share a sire. Bucky’s sire was a dragon who could shift to bipedal.”

“My sire was a fox-shifter, my dam told me so,” TJ insisted, ears flattening against his skull.

“TJ, is it possible, honey, that your dam _thought_ he was a fox because he _told_ her he was? That she didn’t get to see it for herself?” Steve asked softly.

TJ shook his head; he insisted with a slight growl, lips pulled back to show his slightly shifted teeth, “ _no_ , my sire was a _fox_ -shifter.”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay, sweetie,” Steve lifted both hands in a placating gesture. “I’m asking because I don’t know, TJ, not because I’m trying to be mean. I’m trying to figure out why Hydra wanted you so much. You see, they are obsessed with dragons and taking dragon parts, especially scales.” Turning to Bucky, Steve asked, though he figured he already knew the answer, “was it possible, Bucky, that _your_ dam was the one who . . . wandered? That she mated with a fox-shifter?”

Bucky shook his head, “no, she didn’t leave and was never pregnant after Becca.” He looked at the frightened, confused youth on the bed.

Finally Johnny interrupted the gentle interrogation. He rolled over and nuzzled TJ’s hip, lifting his covering to duck under and meet skin. From under the cover, his voice came out, “I think you are the sexiest fox alive, even if you aren’t a dragon-kin, my little one.”

TJ looked at Steve and then Bucky and back to Steve, “they kept trying to take the marking away . . . but it always grew back.”

“TJ? If we leave the covering over your personal area, may we see if the markings came back now you’ve been healed, please?” Steve asked gently.

Nodding, TJ let Bucky pull back the sheet so that the younger man’s legs were visible. The dragon left it so TJ’s groin was still covered by the sheets. On TJ’s upper thigh, right where his injury had been, was a large patch of bright sapphire scales.

Johnny lifted his lips from where he’d been kissing TJ’s outer thigh. He smiled at his mate then carefully reached a hand over and stroked over the roughly healed scales. “Beautiful.” And, unlike any other person since the original kidnapping, Johnny merely moved his hand back off the patch of scales and went back to his gentle kisses, apparently uninterested in what Hydra had so long coveted. It was very evident Johnny wouldn’t be hurting TJ to remove his scales.

Bucky looked over at Steve, knowing now that TJ was most definitely his sibling.

“Is it possible,” Steve’s eyes remained locked on that beautiful patch of scaling, “that your sire shifted into a fox form to fool his mother?”

“But I am a _fox_ -shifter,” TJ insisted again.

Johnny lifted his lips and smiled up at TJ, caressing the non-scaled thigh. “Little one, have you heard of shifter magic? It’s something someone can do to make their flesh the same as what they wish to become. It’s a way to create pure offspring with another of the desired race without having two of the same. But for a dragon shifter, the magic always fails and allows some scales through to proclaim the true parent. But,” he slid up his mate’s side and kissed his mark, “it’s no shame to have a dragon parent. Not if he was kind enough to try to give your dam some fox kits when your fox tribe is almost gone. Did you know that, love? The snow foxes are almost all dead. You are one of the very few left.”

Looking down at Johnny, TJ shook his head, eyes wide.

Touching the scales with a strong, gentle hand, Johnny met TJ’s eyes. “This shows how kind your sire was, to shift to fox and provide your dam kits, my love. This is his gift to you: a fox heritage with a dragon’s love. But it also means Hydra will try to hurt you again, because they are fools and don’t understand that you are fox, not dragon.” Johnny kissed TJ’s shoulder and smiled at him. “So, yeah, you aren’t a dragon, little one. You’re a fox. But your sire was probably a dragon.”

“Is that why . . . when my old masters had me . . . they kept asking me to change? They weren’t happy with my fox form . . . they kept saying that it wasn’t my _true_ form,” TJ hugged himself, his pale eyes haunted.

Johnny sat up, stopping his playful teasing, and nodded, caressing TJ’s scales again. “That’s exactly why, TJ, love. They don’t understand shifting magic like the elves do. Hydra are idiots and users and fools. But, I know a lot about shifting, because I use the magic all the time to blend in.” He smiled. “It’s why I know that if you desired to produce kits, I can use my magic to help us. I could even bear them for you if you never want to be dam.” Johnny leaned over and kissed TJ’s lips softly. “But only if you want kits. Elves are quite fond of shifter magic because it allows us to still produce true offspring with other races if we chose to mate with them. Thus, no one species dies out due to elf love.”

“But . . .” TJ looked back at Steve, “if . . . Hydra wanted me because they thought I was a _dragon_ -shifter . . . why’d they kill my brother?”

“Are you from the same litter?” Steve asked. “If so, you were both dragon-kin, TJ. But maybe he didn’t produce scales before they killed him. Scales can often wait until puberty to appear and sometimes even toward the end . . . meaning until he was ready for mating, he might not have produced scales.” Steve touched TJ’s calf, nowhere near his scales or pelvis, “now think hard, TJ, and I apologize for the grief. How did your brother die?”

Shifting again, TJ let out a tiny whimper and shook his head, “my dam and grand-dam told us to go hide in a bolt hole. There was . . .” TJ shuddered and swallowed, “they smoked Doug and I out and . . . we got separated. They told me when I woke up in my cage that they’d killed them all.”

Steve stilled. “My stars, Bucky, his brother might still be alive! Hydra always lies to their victims!” He looked over at the dragon. “I have to find out, see if we can get him out if he is. How do we find out, though?”

“Dougie is alive?” TJ asked, eyes wide.

Looking at TJ, Steve frowned. “I’m not positive he still is, TJ, but I feel sure he was when they told you he died. What we need to do is find someone good at scrying charms, to see if we can locate him or his remains. Then we’ll know for sure.”

“But . . . if he _is_ alive . . . that means _I left him_ ,” TJ looked horrified.

Johnny turned TJ’s head and smiled grimly, “no, TJ, you came to get him help. You would never leave your litter mate. You needed someone else to help you, weak and injured. And so you have found help. And we will go and save him if he is there to save. Okay, my love?”

Sighing, TJ nodded, “okay . . .”

“What we need is someone with scrying abilities,” Steve repeated. “Bucky, do any of you three have such magic?”

“Maybe Natasha?” Bucky offered.

Johnny finally sat up, unashamed by his nudity still. “Well, why don’t you do several things? Why don’t you check on the healing for your sister? Check with Natasha on her vast and generous knowledge? And find a way to get that nymph into water so his magic doesn’t run out while we try to rest. And while you do that, mull over the idea that you have two more brothers, Bucky.” Johnny turned to TJ and smiled. “And you have a brother and sister you didn’t know.” He gently pushed his mate to the bed, pulling the covering over his legs, hiding his scales. “Now, I think we still need rest. Fire flight drains me incredibly and you are still very much healing, my pet.”

TJ nodded, looking tired and a bit shell-shocked.

“Curl up and rest, my little one,” Johnny cooed. “Their questions can wait while they find someone with the magic to look into Hydra secrets. Come on, my darling, and rest with your loving mate.” Johnny stroked TJ’s hair.

TJ didn’t wait any longer before curling up tightly and closely to his mate. His tail covering his genitalia under the sheet.

Johnny turned his smile up to his host and brother. “We won’t be going anywhere for next time you need to speak with him. But, if you can bring raw, fresh meat with you, it might help his strength recover quickly.” Johnny stroked his lover’s furry ears.

Bucky nodded, shocked himself that he had not one, but _two_ , unknown siblings. The horrors TJ and Doug, if he was still alive, went through for _years_ made Bucky’s stomach churn. Steve took Bucky’s hand and led him from the room, shutting the door carefully before turning to the dragon.

Looking at Steve with wide eyes, Bucky muttered, “he’s so . . . young . . . and to be treated in such a way . . .”

“Are dragons normally so promiscuous, Bucky?” He shook his head, “not that I frown on that, if they provide for the young. Elves are not normally monogamous unless they locate their soulmate.”

“Dragons don’t like to be _tied down_ to one person, though they are expected to pick a _mate_. It is common for dragons to have a mate but sleep with anyone they want. My mother thought differently, so she stayed faithful even though my father did not,” Bucky shook his head, “I am happy that he doesn’t appear to be too harmed . . . I would have thought years in captivity he’d be worse off. He’s a bit malnourished but overall healthy.”

“Johnny would be responsible for that.” Steve nodded. “He’s great at soothing wounded animals and other creatures. I think he knows some magic I can’t do, some that help the creatures know they can trust him. As long as they’re with him, they stay calm.” He sighed. “But, Bucky, you’re seeing him _after_ Mother healed him. He used to be scarred everywhere but his face. Even his most private areas were scarred heavily.”

Looking horrified, Bucky’s eyes snapped up to look at Steve, “what did they do to him?”

“When first Johnny rescued him, he had to bind TJ’s neck in a rope and let him call Johnny _’master’_ and _‘sir.’_ I was afraid that TJ was so far gone in his abuse that he’d asked Johnny to even hit him to make him feel worth anything. I’ve seen that, you know, from a Hydra rescue? The victim was so far gone, she insisted on being beaten to discipline her for being bad enough to urinate or something.” Steve looked troubled. “She was one of the last of the cloud leopard-shifters.”

Wincing, Buck nodded and gestured for Steve to follow him; he headed back towards Becca’s room, “father was selfish. He could have brought the children back here . . . they would’ve been _safe_.”

“Or Hydra would have hunted them here as he journeyed with infants, Bucky.” Steve shook his head. “Besides, we can’t change the past without threat to the future, so might have been is never good to dwell on.” Steve entwined fingers with Bucky. “Is Natasha planning on becoming mates with Clint?”

“I know they were talking about it,” Bucky answered, “Natasha wants to expand our race. She said something about a colony up north, but she made it here and just . . . stopped.”

“She was going up there?” Steve guided Bucky towards the front hall.

“That’s what she said,” Bucky nodded, “after the prospect of mating _me_ was out of the picture, she said she’d travel up there . . . but she never did.”

“Why did you refuse to be mates with her, Bucky?” Steve stopped and looked towards the couple still entwined by the front door, Clint’s forehead pressed to Natasha’s as he spoke to her in a murmur.

Hearing Steve stopping, Bucky turned and looked back at the blond, “never been attracted to the female form.”

Nodding, Steve said, “me either. It’s why when my mother tried to betroth me to Sharon, I suggested an alternate.”

Bucky hummed and nodded, “well, that matches with your _soul_ mates theory, doesn’t it?”

Chuckling, Steve nodded. “If you ask Natasha, perhaps she’s heard of soulmates, too? You talk of her as if she has a wealth, perhaps _years_ , of draconic knowledge.”

“That’s because she _does_ have years of draconic knowledge, Steve,” Bucky confirmed, looking back at the two entwined lovers, “we should let them have some privacy though, it looks like she may be going into her mating period.”

Nodding, Steve quietly guided Bucky towards the stairs and up, so they they could go check on Becca.

“Becca will be _thrilled_ to have a younger sibling,” Bucky said as they headed towards his sister’s room.

“You don’t think she’s gonna want to eat him, right?” Steve asked in a serious tone, eyes scanning the floor so he could step carefully.

Snorting, Bucky let out a small laugh, “she will finally know the tortures of a younger sibling.”

Steve chuckled, “yes, the tortures of a younger sibling can keep us up at nights with worry,” Steve looked at Bucky from the corner of his eye.

“Now I’m going to have double, if not _triple_ , the amount of sleepless nights,” Bucky agreed with a nod.

“And did it cross your mind that your younger brother and mine are mated for life?” Steve smiled at Bucky before very lightly knocking on Becca’s door.

“Come in,” Sam’s voice called out to them, sounding tired.

Steve opened the door and looked inside. “Too soon? Need more time? Food or something else?” He slid into the room and glanced towards Sharon then Becca and back to Sam.

Sam looked over at Steve, looking just as exhausted as he sounded, “the wound is healed. We managed to get rid of all the dark magic as well.”

“She’ll heal?” Steve asked, hopeful, smiling. He looked back to the young woman lying on the bed, only her most personal area covered so her leg remained free to check.

“Yes, the wound _is_ already healed,” Sam repeated, “her body is just cycling through the last bit of poison in her veins but that should fade in a few hours.”

Steve looked to Bucky and offered his hand, smiling, “hear that, Buck? Becca’s okay now.”

Blinking, taking Steve’s hand in his own, Bucky looked at his sister; he’d always hoped for the best but expected the worst. To hear that she was _healing_ made the dragon feel shocked all over again. He looked at the two elves and said, “thank you . . .”

Both Sam and Sharon nodded, looking tired and in need of rest.

Becca opened her eyes and smiled in exhaustion to her brother. “Come join the sleep party, Bucky.”

Walking over to her, Bucky ran his right hand over her forehead and through her hair; he leaned down and kissed her forehead, “rest now, Becca. You can finally rest now.”

She smiled wider and her eyes shifted to take in Sam. “Yes,” she echoed, “I can rest _now_.”

Giving the girl a tired smile, Sam nodded, “so can I. We should all rest, it has been a long day.”

Steve looked towards Sharon. “Neal will be provided a room with fresh water. Did you wish to share with him?” He knew he wasn’t the host, but Steve was the one who knew the guests best.

“Yes,” Sharon answered immediately, “if fresh water is too hard to come by, we can take water from the sea. I know an enchantment that purifies the salt water.”

Looking towards Bucky, Steve offered his hand to the dragon. “What do you think, Buck?”

Smiling at yet another pet name from the elf, Bucky said, “we have a well that supplies us fresh water. For tonight we can use that and when you are well rested you can enchant an endless supply of seawater.”

“That is reasonable, thank you,” Sharon bowed politely and left the room, in all likelihood to look for Neal.

As Bucky and Steve had been too busy to see to the nymph between getting Johnny’s orders and checking on Becca, the nymph remained where he’d curled up to sleep: in the middle of the entryway floor. Sharon helped the nymph up and headed towards the bedroom she and Neal had been given, “come now, sweetheart, let’s get you some fresh water.”

Clint turned his head to watch the pair move off to the room they’d been given. He looked back to Natasha and pulled her hands, guiding her towards the entrance of the catacombs. “Come, Natasha . . .”

Natasha went willingly where the elf led, a need inside her that she hadn’t been able to shake off for quite some time, but with Becca so sick, she hadn’t voiced such desires.

**************

Steve led Bucky from Becca’s room, not making Sam leave the woman’s side. He guided Bucky to the dragon’s bedroom and smiled, releasing his hand and leaning against the frame. “Tired, Bucky?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Not really,” Bucky admitted, his mind racing from all the events that had happened that day. “I find out I have another brother, maybe even two brothers, and my sister is healed after _years_ of trying . . .”

“So, will you let me be ambassador for your people, Bucky, and try to promote harmony between dragons and elves?” Steve smiled gently, watching the beautiful dragon.

“Yes, Steve, if that is what you wish. I was never going to stop you from doing so, I just thought I should warn you that it’s a dying cause. Dragons are going extinct,” Bucky said softly.

Glancing towards the steps then back at Bucky, Steve chuckled. “I think Clint and Natasha are about to breathe new life into it. And, unless I miss my guess, Becca is close to heat as well.”

Bucky seemed to pale slightly; he wasn’t going to deny his sister the relief through her heat but the thought of his baby sister being mated . . . _claimed_ , even, did not sit well with him.

“Sam will treat her well, Buck,” Steve said softly, “if you allow the match. I have the feeling Becca would concede to your wishes.”

“Like I said earlier, I am not going to deny Becca something that makes her happy. If that’s Sam, I’m not going to be the one to step in the way of that . . . it’s just that . . . it was me and her for years and then Natasha came . . . and now,” Bucky sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

Nodding, Steve sighed softly. “We invaded your lives and turned everything upside down. Even though we’ve brought in good, we’ve brought fear, confusion, and hurt, too.”

“I just can’t get over the thought of that little creature, my _brother_ , going through so much pain. And the fact there may be another one being tortured as we speak?” Bucky shook his head, a sudden flash of lightening striking outside the window. It had been clear skies when the group had arrived at the castle.

“We can’t interrupt Natasha for a scrying, if she even knows how. Someone in mating cycle cannot scry because of the distractions of nature.” Steve sighed. “I could name half a dozen elves that can do it, but I’m not sure if they even got to safety this day.” Steve glanced beyond Bucky towards the windows and frowned, “and a storm won’t help them.” He shook his head, worrying about his Mother, his people.

Flinching, Bucky muttered a soft, “sorry,” though the sound was nearly overwhelmed by another flash of lightening and a clap of thunder, as well as the patter of rain.

“Sorry?” Steve shook his head and smiled softly, “you shouldn’t be apologizing for the weather, Bucky. Nature does what nature wishes, be it far from elves to dictate.” Straightening, Steve let his hand fall to his pouch of magics. “I can attempt to scry, but I’m not very good at it.”

“Not always,” Bucky murmured, pale eyes looking out the window and then back at Steve, “we can wait until the morning.”

“If you wish it,” Steve let his hand fall from his pack. “Will you be able to rest?”

“Probably not for a while,” Bucky answered honestly, “but do not feel like you must stay up with me. I am always up late.”

Chuckling, Steve nodded, “okay. So . . . I should go to a room and sleep?”

Looking at Steve, the windows shaking with another roar of thunder, “I . . . don’t know? Is that what you want to do?”

“I want to spend all my time with _you_ , Bucky,” Steve answered honestly.

“Oh . . . okay,” Bucky looked around his room, a flash lighting up the space.

“But I promised not to touch unless you asked me to, so I will let you have your privacy.” Steve continued to smile at the dragon.

“Is that what you want, Steve? To touch me?” Bucky asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“I would lie with you, Bucky, and love you.” Steve’s eyes were loving as he watched Bucky from the doorway.

At Steve’s words, the storm outside seemed to die off, only a few droplets of rain pattering against the glass. Bucky chewed his bottom lip and looked over at the elf, looking hesitant; the dragon slowly removed his thin linen shirt. The dragon’s silver with flecks of red scales covered his entire left arm as well as his shoulder and some of his neck; they also traveled down and around Bucky’s side and seemed to stop near the middle of his back. “And now? Would you still like to lie with me, Steve?” 

“If you would let me lie with so beautiful a creature, I would lie with you till the end of the line, my love,” Steve murmured softly. He pushed upright from the doorjamb and, smiling, spread his hands. “If you want me, an elf, as your lover.”

Striding over, Bucky crashed his lips against Steve’s, his hands moving up to cup the elf’s face. The blond could feel the heat off the dragon’s flesh hand whereas the scaled one was rougher, a bit cooler to the touch. Bucky tilted his head to better seal their lips together, swiping his tongue hungrily against the elf’s lips.

Steve responded enthusiastically, bringing his hands to encircle Bucky’s back, dragging him close so their bodies were flush against one another, despite the clothing. Steve returned and deepened the kisses, making a pleased, needy sound in his throat, sliding his calloused fingers under the hem of Bucky’s trousers to caress over his heated flesh.

Growling low, a rumble from deep in his chest, Bucky moved his scaled hand to wrap in Steve’s short hair, tangling and pulling. Bucky intensified the kiss with nips at the elf’s bottom lip. He ground his hips against Steve’s; the dragon was showing his dominance, as was custom for males in his race.

Steve fell against the doorframe, letting Bucky grind and push, kissing back repeatedly, sucking at Bucky’s bottom lip, tasting the dragon. Sliding his hands around to Bucky’s waist to his butt and then down into Bucky’s pants, over his ass, he squeezed the dragon’s flesh, pulling so that Bucky’s clothed member ground against Steve’s. He moaned softly into Bucky’s mouth then suddenly whirled them around, pushing Bucky into the door hard and bringing one knee up, between the dragon’s legs, to rub underneath his cock.

Moaning, Bucky canted his hips but didn’t loosen his tight, painful grip on Steve’s hair as his flesh hand snaked down under the elf’s shirt so he could run his nails down that firm back. The dragon continued his kissing, another low growl breaking into Steve’s mouth as he fought for dominance, pushing his tongue past the elf’s lips.

Sucking at the dragon’s tongue, Steve groaned back into Bucky’s mouth, reveling in the feel of his nails. Tilting his head again, Steve rumbled low in his throat, rubbing his leg up and under Bucky’s member. He squeezed the other man’s ass hard then let go in order to drag Bucky’s trousers down over his hips, sliding them down just enough to free the tip of Bucky’s cock. Grinning into their shared kisses, Steve wrapped one hand around Bucky’s member, his fingers encircling tight up under the mons, gently squeezing to encourage his pre-cum to flow, the droplets beginning to well up and run down over his spongy cockhead. Steve nipped at Bucky’s tongue once more.

Releasing a noise that was a growl mixed with a keen, Bucky knew he was slowly losing his battle for dominance. His hips canted into Steve’s hand, chasing more of that intoxicating touch, as his scaled fingers released the blond’s hair and moved to tug at Steve’s shirt, ripping the material in his haste to get the item off his lover. 

Steve growled and bucked into the dragon, pushing him harder into the door, his hand wrapping fully around the dragon’s stiff member. “My Bucky,” he growled into his lover’s mouth, using his other hand to caress over Bucky’s ass and down to his passage, still trapped below the line of Bucky’s half-lowered pants. “My beautiful Bucky.” Steve caressed one finger against the puckered opening, feeling the tight muscle and soothing over it to dip just the very tip of his finger past.

Groaning, Bucky’s head fell back against the doorjamb, his hips pushing into Steve’s pelvis. “ _My_ Stevie,” the dragon growled as if Steve was the world’s finest treasure.

Nodding, sealing their lips together again, Steve thrust his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, his finger easing further into the dragon’s hot, tight passage. He used some of his elf charms to cause a mist of fine oil to cover his finger, allowing for ease of entry as he slipped all the way in, caressing lovingly over Bucky’s passage, knowing the dragon had _never_ felt such things before that night - - that _he_ was Bucky’s first, and now only, lover. “My precious love,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s mouth, beginning to carefully slide his other hand over the rigid cock in his firm grip, the action moving Bucky’s pants down until they slid from his legs.

Giving into the pleasurable feelings, despite the fact that he was in the more _submissive_ role, Bucky let out a growling keen. The dragon’s hips moved into the firm grip on his cock, inadvertently making Steve’s finger begin to thrust in and out of him. The brunet moaned into Steve’s mouth, a near animalistic noise.

Pulling his mouth away, Steve moved to nip at Bucky’s ear, slipping his finger easily in and out, back and forth, twisting gently and even curving his finger inside his lover. He worked on loosening the tight passage, bestowing pleasurable caresses and tantalizing little tugs as he worked Bucky open. He also continued to give Bucky’s cock attention, twisting very lightly and stroking up and down, letting the elf oil coat that hand, too, easing the pleasurable attentions.

Bucky groaned into Steve’s mouth, the stretching burned, but it felt _so_ good. The dragon ran his talons, slightly sharper than the nails on his flesh hand, down the elf’s back, managing to break the skin along several areas. He leaned over to nip and suck along Steve’s collarbone, leaving red, bruising marks behind, “ _my_ Stevie.”

Nodding, Steve breathlessly agreed, “your’s.” He kissed hard and passionately, sliding his finger from his lover only to add a second and begin that slow slide once more, over the dragon’s prostrate, deep and tight. He moved his mouth to once more nip at Bucky’s ear but dropped to continue his kisses and nips at his lover’s neck.

“Hey!” Sam’s voice called from down the hall, drawing Steve’s attention, the blond pulling his mouth away and glancing towards Becca’s room with passion dark eyes. “At least close the door! People are trying to _rest_!” The elf admonished on a slight chuckle.

“Why?” Steve panted, grinning and tugging again on Bucky’s cock, two fingers buried deep in the dragon’s ass, “jealous?” Steve maneuvered them into the room enough to lean against the wall beside the door, giving the door a kick to let it slam. He began nipping and kissing Bucky’s lips once more, curling his fingers and twisting them.

Growling against Steve’s lips, Bucky ordered, “more, Stevie . . .” the dragon needed to _feel_ his lover.

Nodding, Steve slid the two fingers from Bucky and added a third, letting the elf oil coat all three fingers as he slid them into his lover once more. He picked up the pace of both hands, matching his thrusts with his strokes.

Running his talons down Steve’s back, breaking the skin once more as he let out a groan, Bucky moved his hips between Steve’s fingers and hand. He continued to mark the elf’s chest with his mouth, covering Steve in various bruises.

Sliding his fingers from Bucky’s passage, Steve also unwrapped his hand from his lover’s needy, weeping cock. He shunted down his own pants enough to free his large member, letting Bucky see it clearly before swooping in for a kiss. Steve was no virgin, so he was familiar with other men having difficulty taking his size. Allowing elf oil to form over his cock, Steve moved his lips to Bucky’s ear. “Want I can bring you off instead, Buck? I’m a pretty big elf . . .”

“No,” Bucky growled instantly, “I need to feel _you_.”

Nodding, Steve turned Bucky so he bent over his desk. “Hold on, love, this will burn for a bit while you stretch. You want me to stop, you tell me so or start knocking. Got it?” The elf lined up, just the massive tip positioned at his lover’s opening.

“Got it, can you please get a move on?” Bucky looked over his shoulder at the elf, his scaled fingers wrapping around the edge of the desk. His back arched, creating an enticing curve as he pushed back against Steve’s tip.

Steve allowed Bucky to take charge for the moment, holding himself very still as Bucky wound up impaling himself. Steve moaned softly, eyes closing.

Moaning in return, Bucky’s grip tightened on the desk as he took in Steve massive size. The stretch did burn, as promised, but that didn’t stop the dragon from wanting more.

“That’s it, my love, just like that. Take a deep breath and push back. Let yourself stretch and do it again.” Steve caressed his free hand down Bucky’s spine, his fingers running over the scales.

Growling low, Bucky pushed back after a breath, pushing Steve even deeper inside of him. He did this several times before finally managing to bottom Steve out, the elf’s pelvis flush with his ass.

On a very soft, low groan, Steve caressed his hand sideways, down over Buck’s scales then enclosed his hand over Bucky’s scaled left hand. His right moved to firmly clasp Bucky’s right hip. Kissing the dragon’s back, right between his shoulder blades, Steve slowly began to pull back and out of his draconic lover. Halfway out, he flicked his hips, driving in deep and true, bottoming out in one smooth glide. Steve set a strong pace.

Moaning, Bucky matched Steve’s pace after a few strokes; his skin was flushed and his long hair stuck to his forehead and temples. “Yes, that’s it . . . Stevie . . . _my_ Stevie . . .”

“Your’s,” Steve growled back, rolling his hips to strike across Bucky’s prostrate then pick up his strong, deep thrusts once more. The pace caused Bucky to shunt against the desk as Steve pounded into him, deep, hard, and fast. He loved the feeling of Bucky’s tight heat milking at him, as if to pull his orgasm from him. He loved that intense hotness, far hotter than any elf Steve had ever sexed before, and that very lure of warmth seemed to draw Steve closer to the edge. He felt his balls tightening and rising, his cock thickening and pulsing, ready to empty into his mate.

Bucky’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream, his voice taken from him by Steve’s continual brutish pounding. His scaled fingers actually tightened enough that the desk creaked and the wood splintered beneath his fingers. A whole body tremor ran down Bucky’s spine as he came with a strangled noise, painting the wood and floor with his seed.

Bucky’s release dragged Steve over the edge and he let out a loud shout of pleasure, cumming hard and deep as he continued to stutter inside his lover, filling him with hot jets of seed. Lowering his face to bury between Bucky’s shoulder blades, Steve still pistoned his hips to continue the broken rhythm as his load finished and his cock began to deflate to about half way. After some time, he stilled and eased Bucky up away from the desk, the blond still embedded in his lover. “My love,” Steve crooned and supported Bucky’s weight, front flush with the dragon’s back, kissing at his neck and cheek. He stopped his thrusts and merely seemed content to hold his lover and feel himself deep inside, joined.

Panting, Bucky let himself lean against Steve’s body, his head falling back to rest on the sturdy shoulder. “That . . . was . . .” the dragon’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

“It was beautiful, Bucky, my love.” Steve agreed and sighed, meeting Bucky’s lips in a gentle kiss.


	7. Fun in the Sun to Plots in the Dark

Restlessly shifting in the bed, TJ curled up once more, trying to get comfortable while Johnny read something. The fox huffed, an almost annoyed sounding noise as he got up once more and starting moving in a circle in an attempt to find a pleasing position. TJ’s front facing ears were perked up, twitching with every little noise as his pale eyes locked on his lover.

Johnny glanced up from his book on draconic medicines and he smiled. “Restless, my dear?” he asked softly, lowering the book.

Shifting into his half form, TJ nodded, his tail flicking to rest over his flank and thigh, inadvertently covering his patch of scales, “I’m bored . . . I keep hearing this odd crashing noise.”

Chuckling, Johnny nodded and placed a scrap of cloth in the book, marking his page. He set the book on the nightstand and rose to his feet, stretching out in his nudity. He rarely wore clothes when in the privacy of their rooms. Moving to the window, Johnny unlatched them and flung them wide, letting the sounds crash into the room with clarity. He breathed deeply at the sea salt air and glanced over to TJ. “That noise, my dear? The noise of the ocean waves?”

Tilting his head, ears twitching, TJ slipped from the bed gracefully and made his way over to the window without any sort of limp. The wound had healed completely over the last three days and the fox was restless . . . he needed to _move_. Gasping at the sight of the expansive body of water, TJ’s mouth dropped open and he looked at Johnny with an awed expression, “what is _that_?”

“That, little one, is the ocean, a vast body of ever moving water filled with creatures stranger than any you might ever dream.” Turning, Johnny grinned. “Want to play in the waves?”

Nodding frantically, TJ grinned brightly, “yes, please!”

Nodding, Johnny walked over to the closet and rummaged through not only what he’d managed to bring for them but what the dragons had provided. He pulled out a pair of smallpants that would run to his knees and tie at his waist. Turning, Johnny held the pair up. “Clothing to play in the water?” Johnny used standard magic to cut a neat hole where TJ’s tail could go.

Taking the item of clothing eagerly, TJ quickly put them on, tying them so they wouldn’t fall off his narrow hips. He beamed at Johnny, “come on,” he begged his lover, excitement in those pale blue eyes.

Johnny copied his lover by pulling on a larger pair of smallpants and tying them tight. He was the same height, but TJ was so much daintier, so much more delicate . . . and Johnny was one of the leaner, more petite males living in the woodland realms, nothing like his larger, muscular, older brother. Johnny laughed, ran a hand through his lightening hair, the transition going slowly back to his natural blond colors as he didn’t use his enchantments to shift this time. “Come, love, let’s go play in the sun,” he agreed, taking TJ’s hand briefly but letting him go just as quickly, allowing the fox to prance down the stairs from their second floor balcony if he chose.

TJ practically skipped down the stairs in his excitement, all his movements fluid and graceful, more so than even an elf’s. Down at the shore, TJ saw two other figures lounging in the sun; as he approached he saw Sam and a girl he hadn’t met before. “Hello!” TJ greeted brightly.

Turning on her side on her large sun lounger, Becca smiled widely at the pair coming towards them, the sun in her eyes. “Bucky! Steve!” She shaded her eyes and instantly realized her mistake.

“TJ and Johnny,” the elf corrected on a laugh, catching up to his mate.

TJ waved at the girl, smiling wide, “we’re going to play in the water.”

“Oh, you swim?” She asked, sitting up and watching the pretty man who looked so much like her beloved brother. That day she wore a simple dark band over her chest and a small skirt covering from low on her hips to half down her thighs, leaving most of her scales to the warmth of the sun - - and the pleasure of Sam’s gaze.

Nodding, TJ grinned, “dam taught me to swim in the river.”

“Rivers are far from oceans,” Neal’s voice came to them from the lower patio exit. He walked calmly out into the sun, pausing to stretch in enjoyment, then began to approach once more. “The waves, for one, and the under waves, currents under the water and hidden from sight, can be dangerous.”

Johnny laughed. “I have no plans for swimming today. I was thinking maybe TJ and I could prance in the shallows, no higher than our knees? TJ, would that be good for you?”

Nodding, TJ grabbed Johnny’s hand and tugged him towards the ocean, “come _on_ ,” the tone and attitude of the fox-shifter was much different than when Johnny had first discovered him.

Laughing, Johnny let the fox take control and insist on their travel into the shallows. He revealed himself to be a fun-loving soul, often up for playing and laughter, though he certainly knew how to take charge or aid someone in need. Johnny preferred play, though. He began splashing gently in the shallows, actually sitting in the water so the normally knee-high waves rolled over his shoulders.

TJ looked amazed by the water, the smells and the sounds crashing around him, the _power_ of the waves. He giggled as Johnny splashed at him; the youth turned back towards the shore and called to the three still on land, “come on.”

Sam looked down at Becca, “want to go join your brother?”

“Only if you’ll accompany me, Samam?” she looked up at Sam, offering both hands for him to assist her.

“Of course,” Sam nodded, grabbing both of her hands and helping the dragon to her feet. Instinctively he wrapped an arm around her waist and lead her towards the ocean, enjoying the feel of the smooth, beautiful scales under his fingertips. He’d never thought much about dragons . . . but Becca . . . she was slowly taking over his every thought.

Smiling up at Sam, Becca leaned into his strong arm, enjoying the feel of being held and lead by him. She asked, “you can swim?”

“I can,” Sam nodded, “though I am a much stronger flier.”

“You swim, Samam, you fly. You heal dragons. Is there nothing you cannot do, my beautiful friend?” Becca asked softly, her pale blue eyes locked to his dark brown ones, not even looking to where he guided.

Chuckling, Sam said, “I am an awful cook, the cooks at our village banned me from their kitchens.”

“Well, that is not a problem to me. I can eat my meat raw if I must, though cooked feels less oozy,” Becca said in all seriousness.

Sam looked down at the woman, “that is very convenient.” He lead her into the cool water, a relief from the sun which was burning hot for a spring day.

“This is a wonderfully bright day, is it not, Samam?” Becca smiled and eased down to sit in the water, close to Johnny but not interfering with the playing shifter. “Bucky will be along soon. He loves this kind of day.”

As if on cue, Bucky and Steve stepped out on the lower patio. The dragon and elf both wore similar shortpants like TJ and Johnny, leaving Bucky’s toned chest bare and Steve dressed in a soft linen tunic. TJ saw his older brother, not yet knowing that Becca was his older sibling as well, and let out an excited, high-pitched croon. He darted from the ocean to run up to the two approaching men. TJ grabbed Bucky’s free hand and tugged him, “come on,” he insisted.

Bucky gave Steve a surprised look as he was dragged forwards, his other hand still entwined with his lover’s.

Laughing, Steve let Bucky’s hand go, watching the two reunited brothers head for the shallows. He stepped into the water near Sam and Becca and grinned. “It’s wonderful that you are well again, Becca, and TJ’s feeling better, too.”

“I’d say,” Sam snorted as he watched TJ play with Bucky and Johnny. “That guy is a little ball of energy when he isn’t sick.”

“Well, he _is_ a fox, Sam. And he’s excited to have family once again.” Steve turned his smile down to the sitting Becca.

Looking intrigued, Becca let her hands run in the waves, looking up. “Oh? The fox-shifter has family here?”

Looking shocked, Sam asked, “I thought Bucky told you . . .” 

“Told me what?” she asked, stilling, watching Sam intently. “What is being kept from me?”

“That’s your little brother, Becca, your father had another child . . . he was a prisoner of Hydra for years but managed to break out recently,” Sam explained with a frown.

Eyes widening in surprise then narrowing in anger, Becca stood and yelled, loudly enough to be heard above the crashing waves, “James Buchanan Barnes, you get over here right now!” Crossing her arms over her chest she added, “and you bring my little brother you’ve been hiding! I want to meet him!”

Whirling around in surprise, Bucky looked at his sister and then at his newly discovered brother. The larger brunet took TJ’s hand and brought him over to her. Looking sheepish, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “sorry, Becca . . . I forgot to tell you?”

“Forgot,” she sniffed, glaring at the older dragon. Then, softening her features and voice, Becca turned a smile on TJ and held out both hands. “My baby brother? I’m Becca. Welcome home!”

TJ blinked in surprise, he pushed back his naturally unruly, streaked hair out of his eyes and smiled at Becca. The young shifter pulled his hand from Bucky’s and placed both of his hands in Becca’s, “I’m Thomas . . . though I like how Johnny calls me TJ.”

Nodding, Becca carefully pulled the younger man into a hug. “What’s the _J_ stand for, TJ?”

“My middle name is James?” TJ frowned and said, “though I don’t think Johnny knew that at the time . . .” the fox-shifter looked over at his mate and called, “what’s the _J_ stand for?”

Johnny waded over, smiling and laughing. “It stood for _Johnny’s_.” He reached for TJ, “but we can change it if you want. You own _me_ , not the other way around.”

“My middle name is James,” TJ offered with a shrug, “it still works . . . though, I am still _your’s_ , Johnny . . . just not . . . uh - - your slave?”

“You were never meant to be my slave, little one. I was claiming you as my love.” Johnny leaned over and kissed the tip of TJ’s nose. “And I still do. I didn’t know foxes had multiple names. That’s interesting.” He seemed to always be laughing, this elf.

Smiling, TJ answered, “my dam couldn’t decide between Thomas or James, so,” he shrugged again, “I guess she picked both? Doug only had one name.”

Johnny nodded. “Well, I like all three names.” He kissed TJ’s nose again. “You look happy in the sun and waves, my love.”

“I wasn’t permitted to go outside often, and if I was, it was usually during the nighttime,” TJ answered, looking around with a happy expression, “and I’ve never seen the ocean before.”

Looking over, Johnny waved to the female elf in their group, noting the very obvious absence of Natasha and Clint still. He suspected that pair would be hidden for awhile longer since Natasha had gone into heat. “Sharon, come here? TJ’s never seen the ocean before.” Turning back to TJ, Johnny smiled, “Sharon is one of the Sea elves. She grew up beside the ocean.”

Sharon made her way over and smiled at the young shifter, “you’ve never seen the ocean before?” She took TJ’s arm to go show him some of the treasures of the sea.

Johnny watched, happiness radiating around him. He jumped when Becca suddenly turned off the charm and whirled on Bucky once more. “How dare you _forget_ to tell me we have brothers. He did mention a second one? Where is this _Doug_? Why isn’t he here, too?” She seemed angry enough that sparks almost seemed to come from her.

“Look,” Bucky sighed and ran his scaled fingers through his damp hair, “you were _healing_ and I was uh - -” he looked at Steve and then back at Becca, “preoccupied? I didn’t feel like sharing the horrors our siblings have and maybe are going through . . . I was still processing it myself.”

She crossed her arms again and looked at Steve, studying him a long moment. Slowly, she seemed to understand as her pale eyes widened and shock crossed her face. She looked back at her brother. “You’ve chosen a mate?” She seemed to have missed the word _horrors_ completely.

“Uh . . . yes? Steve and I have decided to become mates . . .” Bucky looked at his sister, the silver scales on his arm and torso gleaming in the bright sun.

Becca uncrossed her arms and suddenly grabbed Bucky, pulling him into a fierce hug. “Oh, that’s wonderful! You deserve to be so happy!” Tears shone in her eyes, the sudden mood shifts marking the beginning of a heat cycle.

Shocked by the sudden change in mood, Bucky decided not to question it, preferring this over his sister’s fury, “thanks, Becca.”

“So,” Becca smiled at Steve then turned back to Bucky, “do we have any idea where our Doug is?” She slid her arm in his, holding him by her side.

Flinching, Bucky looked at Steve and then back at Becca, “Becca . . . that’s the thing. TJ was kidnapped when he was just a kit by Hydra and tortured for years . . .”

“Kit-napped?” she frowned, but her anger stayed hidden.

“I suppose that could be a term for it,” Bucky sighed.

“Well, kids are goats. He is certainly _not_ a goat!” Becca shook her head. “So, those slimy evil bastards took my family from me? Well, that’s the last, isn’t it? They took our people, our parents, our freedom . . . and now our brothers.” Nodding, as if totally reasonable, Becca firmly stated. “I will have to eat them.”

“Becca,” Bucky looked at his sister warily, “we think Doug may still be with them. They had told TJ that they’d killed him but that wouldn’t make any sense, he was TJ’s twin.”

She paused then frowned fiercely, looking towards the fox-shifter. Lowering her voice so there was no chance he heard, she asked, “do we have a way to find out if he’s there? With these snakey beasts?”

“Once Natasha’s out of heat she can scry,” Bucky answered, “Steve tried but . . .” he looked at his own mate, “he couldn’t find anything. We decided that we should try one more time with someone who has more skill in scrying.”

“Natasha doesn’t scry,” Becca said dismissively. “Never had the knack. She told me she does better sneaking _in_ than spying _on_.”

Steve frowned softly and sighed. “That was the only one we could think of, unless you can scry, Sam, and haven’t told me?” He turned to his best friend, hope in his eyes.

“No,” Sam frowned, shaking his head, “though . . .” he looked at Steve, “I have heard of a name . . . your mother spoke about him quite often . . . apparently his skills in scrying are like no other.”

“And is he where we can get to him?” Johnny asked, finally frowning, taking the conversation quite seriously. He took any rescue attempts seriously; it was what he chose to do for a living.

“I guess he lives up north, in the denser part of the forest,” Sam supplied, “I’ve never been there myself . . . he doesn’t like to be found.”

“Very appropriate for a spy,” Becca nodded. “So, do we go as a group or only a solo? How does one approach him so he might listen to our cause?” The young woman often seemed childish and distracted, but she really was quite intelligent and could be focused at times. The problem would be _keeping_ her focused, new or interesting things often distracted her, much like the rumors of glittering things distracting dragons of old.

“He’s not a spy, Becca,” Sam corrected softly, “from what Sarah has told me . . . he’s kinda lost his wits. It’s a few days journey from here . . .”

“Wait!” Steve turned wide eyes on Sam, “are you talking about the lone wolf? _Jefferson_? He’s not fond of anyone. I thought he disappeared two years ago into the deep woods and hasn’t been seen since?”

“He _hasn’t_ been seen since,” Sam agreed, “but he’s our best hope at figuring out if Doug’s still alive or not.”

Nodding, Johnny moved from the water to the wet sands and squatted down, grabbing a piece of driftwood to write with. “So, what is it we wish to ask him for, specifically? I’ve dealt with him once. It needs to be brief and leave him undetected. He has a pup,” Johnny looked up, “and he refuses to endanger her for anyone.”

“ _You’ve_ met him?” Sam looked shocked, eyes wide, “when?”

“Four summers ago when he first came into our realm. Mother immediately put a ban on harassing him and provided him instructions to a den in the deep woods. If we’re going to go to him, we have to be clear on what we want, or we’ll be arrested for harassment. Mother’s magic ban is quite strong.” Johnny sighed, “he was scrawny and most of his fur was gone, and the pup he carried couldn’t have been more than a few months old. I think the rest of the litter, as well as the dam, had been killed.” Lifting his eyes, Johnny whispered, “he bore the mark of Hydra until Mother removed it for him.”

“We need him to try and find Doug, if he’s alive or not and where he might be,” Sam nodded, all business once more.

TJ, seeing the rest of his group looking quite serious, broke off from Sharon and made his way back over to his mate. Tilting his head, the young shifter asked, “what’s wrong?”

Johnny looked up from where he squatted in the wet sand, a carved drawing of forest in the makeshift planning space. and offered his hand to his mate, his eyes serious. “We’re trying to figure out how to find out if Doug lives, and if he does, how to rescue him, my dear.”

“We are going back into the forest? How will the forest help us find Doug?” TJ asked, looking down at the drawing.

“There is a wolf who can see beyond using his eyes, pet. We wish to ask him to help us,” Johnny said.

“He’d be able to see if Doug is still alive?” TJ asked, eyes wide.

Nodding, Johnny clarified, “he can spot Doug’s body, living or dead, and where it is. Some creatures have a gift of magic called _scrying_ , it allows them to see beyond vision. His lies in spotting other creatures, allowing him to follow their movements or keep track of their remains.” Standing, drawing a deep breath, Johnny continued, “most who scry do so on places. Jefferson is different. And because of that difference, the gift can be quite . . . distasteful.”

“Does he not like his gift? But, it helps people? Why is that distasteful?” TJ looked confused.

“Jefferson, he was a prisoner of Hydra once. If they knew of his gift, do you think they would let him _help_ people with it or make him find victims for them?” Johnny asked gently.

“I remember the guards talking about . . . a scryer,” TJ frowned, looking at his mate, “they were talking outside my cell . . . but I could still hear them.”

“You have fox hearing, of course you heard them,” Johnny chuckled softly, kissing TJ’s hand. “It’s possible the pair of you were prisoners in the same foul den. Then you would hear talk of him?”

Steve sighed and left the water to join Johnny at his drawing. “So, if we’re going to break Mother’s wish to remain in hiding, we need to make careful plans on who to send and how to ask his aid, correct?”

Johnny nodded. “He needs to be approached with caution. He has that pup he’d kill to protect. He may have been a sick wolf when I met him, but he’s had four years to get healthy.”

“Will the area around his den be surrounded in traps?” Sam asked.

“Not sure,” Johnny shook his head. “I’ve never visited his den and I don’t know how much magic he has. A wolf would need some type of help making traps unless they’re pitfalls. And, if that’s the case, his pup won’t be able to go far or it’d risk getting caught itself.”

Becca sighed and strode over, careful not to splash water on the drawing. She studied it. “A flier could get in, but there’s not room to land among those dense trees. Teleporting is out unless one knows the end spot well.” She looked at the others. “I think it would be best to travel on foot, but that would alert him miles in advance that he has visitors. He might go to earth and not be found.”

“Well, we don’t have any other choice,” Sam sighed, running his fingers through his short hair.

“Is there water near that den?” Becca squatted down to study the drawing, inadvertently leaning close to Sam’s legs. “Maybe Neal could get in?”

“Send in a lone nymph to barter with a potentially violent shifter?” Sam asked.

Steve sighed, “we did the same with a den of dragons.” He glanced at Bucky. “But that time we had a healer to offer. What could we offer to appease a wolf?”

“Maybe he wouldn’t be spooked by a fox?” TJ offered quietly.

“Wolves do eat foxes,” Becca said absently.

“Guys,” Sam said, “you do know we are talking about a shifter? Right?”

Looking up at Sam, leaning over a bit more so she was pressed to his leg, Becca smiled. “Johnny said it was a wolf.” Her tone was playful.

“A wolf- _shifter_ , a very powerful one at that,” Sam corrected gently.

“Bucky?” Steve suddenly looked at the master of the castle. “Any ideas?”

Frowning, Bucky let out a sigh, “it’s hard to say how he’ll react. If he’s protective of a pup, he may not even let us speak before attacking.”

“Well, we can always go in carrying a different pup, make him realize we’re peaceful and in earnest to protect the young one, too?” Becca offered.

“But,” Sam said, “we are fresh out of pups.”

“Oh no we’re not,” Becca looked at TJ, smiling. “I recall someone looking very much like a kit when he came here just days ago.”

Huffing, crossing his arms, TJ growled, “I’m not a _kit_.”

“Maybe not,” she replied, “but he won’t know that if you stay in fox form, will he?”

Sighing, TJ looked at Johnny, “do I really look like a kit?”

“Won’t work,” Johnny said, studying his drawing. “You’ve been growing out of the curse stunting every day. By the time we arrive, you’ll be full, proper size for an adult fox.”

“But, I can still try talking to him,” TJ offered, “he won’t hear me until I’m a lot closer, unlike you noisy people.”

Nodding, Johnny met his lover’s eyes, “I think that _would_ be good, TJ. You were a victim, too, so he may listen to your pleas. The thing is, _how_ to we get him to listen to you. You can approach, but if he’s truly wary, he won’t listen to you, just take his pup and bolt.”

“We can always bring him a platter of meat,” Bucky offered, remembering his own mate bringing food as an offering.

“Or a stag?” Steve looked towards the contentedly grazing deer now in the back courtyard.

Becca nodded, agreeing with the plan, “food is a good way to get into many a den. Hunting can be lean, especially in hiding. Everyone likes to eat, and a sire with a pup would worry about enough food. We’re just coming out of the cold season, though, so there’s plenty to be had at the moment. It’d be easier if it was still deep cold.”

“I can help with that?” Bucky offered softly.

Shaking her head, Becca said, “if he’s a magickal as they say, he’ll know it’s not natural. He’ll suspect a trap, Bucky. We can’t do that or he’ll never hear us.”

Steve looked at Bucky but didn’t ask what the pair meant, trusting his lover would reveal his secrets in time. Instead, he took Bucky’s scaled hand and offered a smile. “We could always try directly approaching, like knocking on the front door?”

“Knocking will spook him,” TJ said.

Turning a smile to TJ, Steve said, “it was an expression. Mother told me the best way to approach is directly, openly, honestly. If we make our careful way to his den, showing that we have no plans to trick or fool him, or hunt him, he may be more open to receiving our pleas than if we try to sneak in or trick him.” Looking at Bucky, Steve softened his voice to say, “and gifts help, too.”

“Oh!” Becca jumped up, clapping her hands in delight. “Pup gifts! We can bring toys and other things for the pup! What sire wouldn’t want to give gifts to his pup?”

“That may work,” Bucky agreed with a nod.

Steve nodded and looked to Sam and Johnny. “What do you think? You know best about him.”

“I didn’t know he had a pup, but it would make the best sense to try and appease his sire instincts,” Sam nodded.

Johnny finally nodded his agreement. “As long as we are clear that the gifts are not going to endanger the pup, and that we are there to ask about Doug, not his family situation, it might work. He might still refuse us, but that may be the best way to get in. We can bring TJ to show him what Doug might look like, if he’s willing to scry, it would help to know who to spot. And, as victims, Jefferson might feel more inclined to help TJ than a group of elves and dragons, no matter how Hydra hunts the latter.”

Softly, Steve added, “and if we let TJ do the talking? A wolf can often sense truth. He’ll know TJ’s not lying about wanting to find his brother.”

The others looked to TJ at that point; the young fox was the lynch pin in the entire plan.

Under everyone's gaze, TJ looked a little nervous but he held his chin high, “I do want to find my brother . . . I'd do anything.”

“Well,” Johnny grinned widely, kissing TJ’s fingers, “with us around, you hopefully won’t be required to do _that_ much. We need to get our breakfast and further plan this journey, though. I don’t want to leave any gift unchosen, so to speak.”

Bucky nodded, “more likely than not, Natasha and Clint won't be able to join us. Her heat will last for several more days.”

“And I think someone else is about to begin one,” Steve looked to Becca, who had sidled up next to Sam once more.

Looking over at his sister, Bucky frowned softly and nodded, “so, Clint, Natasha, Becca and whomever she chooses to share her heat, if she wishes, with will stay here.”

Nodding, Steve added, “Clint will be able to keep an eye out between matings, so will Becca’s mate, if she chooses one.”

“ _If_? Why does everyone say _‘if?’_ Of course I’d love to actually mate with someone this time. I hate spending heat alone!” Becca frowned, glaring at her brother as if their careful speak had been coded refusals of letting her mate properly.

Johnny chuckled, “well, Becca, you may have a lot smaller pool of possibles than you might desire. Most of us area already bespoken. Possibly Sharon or Neal or Sam, here, are free?”

“I am not free, sorry Becca,” Sharon said politely.

Softly, Neal bowed his head, but he didn’t speak. Rather, he moved one step closer to Sharon, all the words he needed.

“Looks like you get the bottom of the barrel,” Sam teased softly, looking down at the young woman next to him. He didn't seem at all upset that he'd be missing out on the quest to find the _lone wolf_ in order to help Becca with her heat.

Becca smiled up at him, “goody. All the best sweets get forgotten at the bottom. And you know, with elf shifting magic, if more dragons allowed themselves elf mates, we could repopulate our dying breed.”

Steve chuckled. “Ready for that responsibility, Sam? Sounds like she wants to start repopulating right away,” he teased his friend.

Sam smiled brightly, not tearing his eyes from the beautiful dragon, “the pleasure would be all mine.”

“Well,” Becca teased, though her tone and eyes were serious, “the pleasure won’t be _all_ your’s. I want some, too.”

“You _and_ Steve will be the death of me! I can never tell when you two are joking or serious!” Sam groaned.

“Do I sound like I’m joking about you pleasuring me, Samam?” Becca purred, laying one hand on his chest.

“I will gladly pleasure you all day if you desired,” Sam promised.

“Good,” Becca took his hand and began tugging him towards the castle doorway, “and if you do a very good job, I promise to eat you.” She tugged him through the opening and out of sight.

“Never gonna get used to that,” Bucky grumbled, watching his little sister pulling Sam away until they were both out of sight.

**************

TJ sat on the center of the bed; he'd shifted to his fox form to relax after the busy morning in the sun. His head was tilted slightly as he watched Johnny packing once more for their journey.

Glancing up, packing at a slightly more leisurely pace than before, Johnny smiled lovingly at the sight of the little fox. “Not sleeping, pet?”

Yipping once, TJ tilted his head the other way, ears twitching as he heard Steve and Bucky packing in the other room.

Johnny nodded and folded the fourth shift into the pack, for when TJ walked in bipedal or half form, the skirt would let his tail remain free when he didn’t shift completely. “Do you also want trousers, my love, or will skirts be good?” Looking over he asked, “trousers?”

Shifting back to his half form, TJ said, “whatever is lighter, I will be in fox form for most of the trip, a lot easier to travel that way.”

Nodding, Johnny stopped his packing to sink next to TJ on the bed. He reached over and stroked the shifter’s thigh. “Does it bother you that I offer you what many consider female clothing?”

“No, it makes sense for what I am. When I am in my true form, the skirts work well with my tail,” TJ answered with a soft smile, leaning closer to his mate.

“That’s what I thought, actually.” Johnny stroked again. “I’m glad you realize I am not forcing you into a feminine role without your permission. I think of ease of shifting only. These skirts will shift with you into that same style blanket with band, so you can easily slip from it if caught by the cloth.” Leaning in for a gentle kiss, Johnny added, “but know this, my love, that in an elf culture, a feminine position is a position of power and respect, unlike some cultures. We respect the power of life. But I will never ask you to be other than what you are. You are my beautiful male mate, TJ, my foxy shifter.”

Laughing TJ leaned over and nuzzled at Johnny's neck before straightening immediately; head snapping around to look out the door, his ears twitched, flickering towards a noise only he could hear.

Taking the unspoken startle as a warning, Johnny leapt lightly to his feet and eased beside the window, looking out. He whispered, “what is it, pet?”

“Hydra,” was all TJ said before shifting back into his fox form; Johnny had been right, the fox was much bigger than it'd been just a few days ago.

“Are they in the castle yet?” Johnny looked at TJ so he could see a response.

Shaking his head, TJ leapt off the bed soundlessly and trotted over to the door.

Johnny picked up the packs and slipped them on, once more attaching magic and rations packs to his woven belt. He packed extra bandage cloth in the sling this time then fastened it on, like before. He grabbed TJ’s woven rope. Following the fox, Johnny’s steps were soft, stealthy. He picked up his bow and knife.

Fortunately, Clint was on a break from tending Natasha while she rested. He had wandered out to tend to the stag, so he, too, sensed the trouble arriving. Guiding the large deer into the castle, Clint pushed it towards the door of the catacombs. Surprisingly the deer obeyed and went down to Natasha’s lair. Clint hurried up the stairs on fleet feet and slammed a hand on Bucky’s door then one on Sam’s. He crossed over to slam Sharon’s door and gave a nod to Johnny and TJ. “Hydra,” he hissed, heading to his own quarters for supplies. “They’ll be here within the hour, probably sooner if they get past my traps.”

Bucky opened the door, looking worried.

Johnny met his eyes. “Hydra,” was all he said, reaching down to scoop up his mate and settle him in the sling. “Once past them, TJ, I will let you free once more. But you will not be able to keep up with us on the run for now.”

Becca was very far gone in exhaustion from the intense mating and barely registered the knock and voices. She merely snuggled into Sam.

Looking at Sam, Bucky ordered, “get her to the catacombs, stay there, you guys will be safe.”

Sam nodded and scooped Becca up effortlessly to follow Bucky's orders.

Clint stepped out of his room to look at Sam. “Follow the red line on the wall. Use your dark vision, Sam. I will get food and supplies.” He moved down towards the pantry to retrieve dried meats and vegetables.

Sam and Becca disappeared moments later, heading towards the catacombs.

Steve slid his shield over his back, bow in hand, as he stepped from the room he shared with Bucky. He tossed Bucky a pack of travel supplies, including a pair of clothing changes and a couple of knives. He looked towards Sharon’s room as Neal opened the door.

The nymph firmly said, “we will go to the seaside realms for information and help. Go for our quarry. The enemy is scattered if they still terrorize the woodland realms and now the dragon castle.” He turned to nod to Sharon and, without another word to their companions, firmly tugged the elf with him to the balcony overlooking the ocean, their windowed enclave closer to the waters than TJ’s was. He curled his arm around Sharon and took a running leap, forcing them both into a long, shallow dive into the roiling waves.

Johnny turned to the remaining pair, his mate secure in the sling. “Now,” he growled out and wrapped one arm around his brother and the other around his brother’s mate. Intense heat then icy flames surrounded the group and the elf launched them into the air. He couldn’t get them far, but he did manage to land them at the waterfall from days before, using the last of his strength to push the pair behind the rushing waters into the damp cave before Johnny collapsed from the exertion of having flown the four of them even that distance. He let his fingers carefully stroke over TJ’s darkening fur, the whites of winter easing into the browns of spring and summer.

TJ scurried out of the sling, sniffing and butting his head against his mate’s fingers as Johnny pet him. The fox let out a low whine; he could hear Johnny's heart beating fast and could see the exhaustion on his features.

Pushing weakly to shaking arms, Johnny smiled at his mate and crawled behind the waterfall, collapsing again but watching for TJ to follow. TJ followed close behind, pale eyes locked on his lover's form. Once behind the relative safety of the waterfall, the fox let out another whine and a huff.

Steve drew a breath and nodded. He kept his voice soft as he spoke to the other three. “We’ll need to go on foot from now on. Johnny can’t continue to weaken himself flying me and Bucky.”

Bucky nodded, running his fingers through his drenched hair from walking under the waterfall. He was worried about his sister and friends but knew the catacombs were safe and Clint was undoubtedly putting protective enchantments all around them. Realistically, the four in the catacombs were the safest out of them all. “This cave leads out from the other side, about three or four miles,” Bucky reported.

Nodding, Steve looked towards Johnny and TJ then back to Bucky. “So, how much do we know about the enemy?” He refused to say the name now, in case it invoked a searching curse. “Do they have times they prefer to search? To attack? Methods of travel?”

TJ looked over at Bucky and Steve, his head resting on his front paws, his body pressed close to Johnny. The fox let out a tiny growl, ears straight up and attentive. The small, front facing ears twitched and moved constantly with each and every sound.

Johnny reached over and stroked TJ’s back, leaving his ears untouched and unhindered so he could continue to listen. In a very soft voice, he asked, “hear something, pet?”

Huffing, TJ shook his head, his pale eyes moved to the waterfall they'd entered from.

Nodding, Johnny lay his head on the damp, dirty stone of the cave. He concentrated on catching his breathing, knowing they’d have to move on soon. Letting his eyes slide over to Bucky and Steve, he didn’t add to the discussion, but he remained alert as he could, listening for what they assigned him to do.

Bucky sighed and shook his head, “I don't know a whole lot about them, actually.”

Steve looked at his little brother. “Johnny? Any ideas? You’ve been out wandering your entire adult life.”

Johnny lifted up from the damp floor slightly. “They hunt when they will and whomever they please. They set watches at all hours. And they travel by foot, beast, and cart. I have not yet seen them fly or swim, but I won’t believe they cannot.”

Bucky looked over at Steve with a slight frown, “so, we need to distance ourselves from this area without being detected. The waterfall should help cover our scents, so that'll give us a little time.”

“If we follow this tunnel, will we be walking into their lair or beyond them?” Steve asked on a frown, looking towards the dark tunnels beyond.

“The tunnels come back up near a large lake about four miles away,” Bucky supplied, “I'm not sure where their lair is . . .”

Johnny drew in shaky breath after shaky breath. He pushed to sit up, leaning against one chilly wall. “TJ, pet, when I found you, were you close to the place you lived before . . . with them?”

Lifting his head, TJ shook it with a low whine.

“Had you traveled far from them?” Johnny sighed, watching the fox with tired eyes.

Shifting back to his half form, crouching on the cool ground TJ answered, “you found me two days after I escaped. I traveled all day, as much as I could on my leg.” The shifter’s tail flicked forward, preserving his modesty in front of the others.

Offering his mate a smile, Johnny nodded. “Did you head towards the sun? Away? Or with it on your right or left?”

“Towards if I could,” TJ answered, “it'd been awhile since I saw the sun . . . so, I followed it.”

“So, perhaps up to two days travel west of where I found you is where they would be. That puts them far south of the woodland realms and to the west. We came northeast after I found TJ.” Johnny looked to Bucky and Steve.

Bucky nodded, “so, the lake should be fine. And then we can head north from there.”

Steve nodded. “Do any of them see well at night?” He looked towards TJ and Johnny.

“Most of them are human, they force some creatures to work for them sometimes . . . So, I imagine they have a few who see well during the night,” TJ answered softly, pale eyes worried.

Johnny chuckled softly and shook his head, earning a puzzled frown from his brother. Waving a hand tiredly, the younger elf said, “we were in such a hurry to leave, I think we forgot the presents for the pup.”

“We can't go back,” Bucky said, “we’ll have to hope TJ’s plea for help will be enough.”

Nodding, Johnny closed his eyes and tried to rest, to regain his energy, both magickal and physical. Steve frowned in worry while he watched his brother nap. “We can make a couple of toys along the way, or some other trinket a wolf pup might like. What to give a wolf?”

“My dam made my brother and me a braided rope that we could tug between the two of us when we were kits,” TJ offered with a soft smile, like he was remembering the many times he played with his twin. After a moment, the young shifter added, “And you have to remember, she's not _just_ a wolf pup, she's also a little girl. Don't they like dolls and things like that?”

Nodding, Steve smiled at the shared innocent joy of TJ’s remembered youth. “I can make a doll of braided rope and cloth. Without a tug partner, the pup’ll need more solo toys, I suppose, unless Jefferson takes time to play with her.”

“I'm sure he does,” TJ answered sounding sure of himself, “if it truly is just him and the pup, he'll need to release energy as well. Playing is a great way of doing so. And playing is a very important part of raising a pup, pups need it, they need to explore.” TJ didn't seem to realize that he, himself, missed out on a lot of things that were important for a young kit to experience, having been a captive of Hydra since he was eight years old.

Johnny smiled in his sleep; it seemed that he may have heard what occurred around him, but the next instant, he reached out his hand, proving he was actually awake, “TJ? Is it okay to cuddle and share warmth? I’m always so cold after the fire goes.”

TJ looked over at his mate and nodded; he didn’t know how much time they had but he wasn’t about to say no to cuddling his lover. Crawling over, TJ settled next to Johnny and curled up close, pressing his bare skin to the elf’s cold, soaked clothes. He didn’t even seem to realize he was nude, too worried about Hydra and Johnny.

The elf pulled his mate onto his lap and nuzzled his neck. “Did you want one of those shifts, my love? It might help you stay warm.”

TJ nodded, “maybe when we start moving again, seems pointless to put on clothes that’ll just get wet from cuddling you.”

Johnny opened his eyes and chuckled. “I’m sorry, my dear, this is a very strange place for a newly mated pair. Once we’ve found out about your brother, and retrieved his body, alive or not, I will find us a wonderful den.”

Making that soft, contented clicking noise from the back of his throat, TJ leaned forward to nuzzle and nip at Johnny’s neck, brushing his nose against the sensitive spot just below his lover’s ear.

Johnny wrapped his trembling arms more securely around his mate and sighed in pleasure. “How long before we move on?” he raised his eyes to the other pair.

“We shouldn’t stay here long,” Bucky informed with a sigh, “I’m sure they are scouting the area and soon enough they’ll find this cave . . . we want to be long gone by then.”

With a nod and a sigh Johnny tapped TJ’s hip. “Up, love?”

Nodding, TJ stood, his tail falling back and inadvertently displaying himself, and, as if just realizing his nakedness in front of the two other men, the shifter flushed and ducked his head.

Johnny used the wall to ease to a standing position. “TJ, what’s wrong, my dear?”

“C - - can I have one of those shifts, please?” TJ asked softly.

Without saying a word, Johnny reached into his pack and pulled out a dark grey shift, handing it over. TJ pulled it on quickly, sighing in relief as the material covered some of his body.

Steve nodded and softly said, “you may be assured, TJ, that in the elvish culture, a man or woman’s body is his or her own, and coverings are optional. If it feels better to wear them, by all means do so, but not because you think we are offended.”

“It’s just - -” TJ looked at Steve and Bucky before letting his eyes fall again, “I didn’t have a choice to wear them for so long . . . I - - I was never given clothes . . . and they - -” the shifter shook his head, not letting himself continue.

Smiling gently at his brother’s mate, Steve said, “then please, whenever you wish coverings, let us know. I would be happy to provide even some of my own if you wish.”

Giving Steve a small smile, TJ nodded, “thank you,” he turned back to his exhausted mate, “are you sure you’re okay to move?”

“Yes, as long as I limit my use of enchantment, I can walk for sometime, little one.” Johnny smiled and leaned closer to gently brush his lips over TJ’s. “Did you want to be carried or walk by my side?”

“I can walk,” TJ assured and then shifted back to the small fox form, the coverings shifting with him.

“Do you think,” Steve asked softly, “that Jefferson would like such coverings for his pup, little brother?” he looked directly at TJ, not Johnny, for the answer.

Pale eyes glowing in the darkened cave, TJ looked up at Steve before nodding and trotting off in the direction of the tunnels. Bucky laughed softly and said, “well, I guess we should follow him.”

“Of course,” Steve agreed and helped his brother by letting Johnny lean on him for the first few steps. The other elf seemed to get his strength back after a moment and began walking on his own, leaving Steve to step over to Bucky instead. He reached into the darkness and took Bucky’s scaled left hand.

Giving Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze, Bucky leaned in closer to his mate, “any word on your mother? Has she found a way to contact you?” The dragon knew Steve was worried for his mother, afraid that she’d been killed or captured in the attacks.

“I haven’t heard yet. I’m hoping she’s contacted the Sea people, or even is with them. Neal and Sharon should know once they’ve arrived, but they probably won’t be able to get us a message unless we spend time in water, and the spring run off is still too cold for that.” Steve lifted Bucky’s hand and kissed the fingers gently as they walked. “I think you would like my mother very much, Bucky. She is one of the last great healers of the woodland realms.”

Humming, a noncommittal sound, Bucky said, “perhaps.”

Not pressing his new mate, Steve merely continued the fast pace the fox had set for them, glancing over to make sure Johnny could keep up. For his part, the younger elf seemed to be regaining his strength as they moved further down the tunnel. His eyes remained focused on the white streaks in TJ’s dark fur, the remnants of winter.

It was several hours before anyone called a halt to their travels. Johnny seemed troubled. There had been no turns or byways in the miles-long cavern, marking the tunnel as most likely something other than nature made. What he couldn’t tell without using enchantment was _who_ made the tunnel or for what purpose . . . and if they risked meeting up with the creators. Finally, Johnny asked, “does anyone know where this tunnel originated? Who created it? This isn’t a natural cavern or there’d be branches and niches.”

Bucky shook his head, “no, I just discovered it when I needed another way into the woods without being detected. The tunnel seems to block most spells and enchantments.”

Steve smiled, “if it blocks magic, it’s not Hydra-made. Most likely dwarves constructed it. Is it possible your castle was dwarven made, too?”

“Very possible,” Bucky nodded, “it had been built long before my family bought it . . . though I’m not sure who my parents bought it from.”

Johnny chuckled, “dragons buying shelter from dwarves? That is amusing. Dwarves don’t often trust dragons to hold up their bargains. Must have wanted out of this area if they were willing to sell.” He shook his head, smile dropping, “and a bit worrying, after all. Why would they want . . .”

TJ yipped once, the high pitched sound echoing in the hall; the small fox’s body was silhouetted against the bluish glow of the moon from the second entrance of the tunnels.

“Ah,” Johnny smiled, “it looks like freedom.” He carefully approached his mate to look out of the tunnel entrance, checking manually for danger since magickal means were denied to him for the moment.

After a moment, TJ stepped out of the tunnel, cautiously putting one paw in front of the other, ears straight up and listening. He couldn’t smell or hear anything that would signal danger. The fox trotted over to the edge of the very large lake and lapped at the cool water.

Slowly, TJ became aware of the scent of someone else closeby. When he looked up and around, he could see a very dark shape among the underbrush, watching him without moving. TJ’s head perked up immediately, the hair on his back standing straight up. The fox stepped closer to the large shape, every move slow and calculated. TJ hoped the other three would be smart enough not to step outside and spook the creature.

A very soft growl issued from the black-furred wolf as he took one step into the moonlight, revealing a hint of lighter grey around the eyes and muzzle. He sniffed the air, ears listening as attentively as TJ. The massive canid, as big as a small pony, lowered his head and let out another soft growl, though it sounded more a warning than a direct threat.

TJ took another step closer until he became aware of a second unfamiliar scent. Sniffing the air, TJ’s ears twitched as he looked around and then focused back on the wolf. With his nose, TJ detached his shift, letting the fabric fall to the ground. The fox scooted the gift closer to the wolf using his nose until he was literally at the wolf’s front paws.

Lowering his head, though his eyes didn’t leave TJ, the wolf scented at the fabric. He immediately raised his head and looked towards the tunnel. Swinging his head back around, the wolf stepped back into the shadows of the beginnings of an old forest, leaving the cloth where it lay. He left out a deeper sounding growl ending in almost a single bark, calling the other wolf to him.

TJ, somehow, knew this wolf was important and didn’t want to lose their chance with it. So, despite all his instinctual warnings to leave the bigger predator alone, TJ followed the wolf, stepping into the forest’s edge. The fox let out a high-pitched clicking noise, trying to call the other creature back to him.

Once in the darker forest edge, TJ became aware of his mistake. The wolf wasn’t leaving at all. In fact, he had shifted into a bipedal form, and he looked angry. He was blocking TJ from approaching a smaller wolf pup which had made it to his side. In the darkness it was hard to make out anything more than the male had black hair to match his fur and was dressed in very ragged, often repaired, clothing similar to elf-made. “Take your Hydra and leave my forest.”

Tilting his head, TJ sat back to look up at the taller man. After a moment, the fox let out a huff and shifted into his natural form, luckily in the darkness most of his nudity couldn’t be seen by the pup. “I’m not Hydra . . .” TJ said softly.

“You were Hydra when last we met,” the wolf-shifter growled.

“I was _enslaved_ and _tortured_ by Hydra, there’s a difference,” TJ pointed out softly.

“And yet you walk free,” the other man insisted, shifting on his feet to block his curious pup from getting a good view of the fox. “Grace, stay there.”

“I escaped . . . you’re Jefferson, aren’t you? The scry?” TJ asked, not looking away from the man.

“I _am_ Jefferson,” the man growled. “And you should have died.” He made no move to get closer or even prepare for attack.

“You’re right, I should have, and several times I wish I had . . . but here I am,” TJ answered.

“I should have killed you,” Jefferson said enigmatically.

“Were you a guard? Have you escaped, too?” TJ couldn’t recall meeting a wolf-shifter in Hydra.

“I was a _slave_ ,” Jefferson spat out, tone bitter, “and their hunter. And you were a kit.”

Blinking, TJ looked a mix between shocked and horrified, “th - - the wolf . . . that was _you_?”

“Yes, and I should have killed you both when I had the chance. You bring the scent of dragons.” Jefferson narrowed his eyes.

“Y - - you killed my dam and my grand-dam . . .” TJ said softly, voice shaky as if he were trying to hold himself together, “I heard you attacking them before they smoked us out.”

“Is that what you heard?” Jefferson let out a snort, “so be it.”

“You brought me into Hydra . . . you gave me to them . . .” TJ’s voice developed a low growl.

“I helped Hydra capture a pair of dragon-offshoots, yes, and paid dearly for not bringing them more, for refusing to hunt again.” Jefferson glanced towards the cave outside the treeline and said, “and now you have turned my trick on me. You have hunted _me_ in return.”

“I’m _not_ Hydra,” TJ snapped, pale eyes flashing in the dim night, lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Hydra. Revenge. Whatever the purpose, you have turned the hunter. I commend you on your catch.” Jefferson bowed, almost mockingly. The flash of a silvery scar, caught by a trace of moonlight, ran over his neck.

“I’m not _hunting_ you,” TJ assured, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, “I came to ask for your _help_.”

“Why would you want _my_ help? Haven’t I _killed_ enough of your family?” Jefferson frowned and shifted on his feet again, instinctively blocking his pup’s attempts to get around him to see better.

“I’m not dead yet, so no, obviously not,” TJ snarked, “we need your help to see if my brother is still alive and where he might be.”

“The other kit?” Jefferson asked, voice dropping. “And if I tell you the disgusting details I can see, will you be content?”

“Content isn’t the word I’d use,” TJ said, “but, we’d leave you and your pup alone.”

“Odd, I’d have thought a predator would wish blood for blood. Why did you think you needed to give me your elf-skirt?” Jefferson’s eyes trailed over TJ’s form then back to his face.

“I had a feeling who you were and knew you had a shifter-pup, the clothing is a gift. She can wear it in bipedal _and_ wolf form.”

“You came with a gift to bribe my aid?” Jefferson sounded thoughtful, glancing briefly towards the cloth left on the ground outside the treeline.

“Better than some of the other things we had in mind,” TJ said honestly, “we were going to make her other things as well . . .”

“And what did your elfish and draconic comrades have in mind?” Jefferson sounded a bit curious.

“Mostly bribes . . . something about changing the weather but that didn’t make sense to me,” TJ shrugged.

“It’s a fine spring, why change it?” Jefferson let out another snort.

“So you need food? We had a stag, though I thought that was a silly idea, who’d lug a full grown stag around . . . it’d get tiresome,” TJ answered.

“And what if it’s another shifter? Then I’d be eating another sentient being.” Jefferson let out a chuckle that sounded borderline hysterical.

TJ looked up at Jefferson; from the features the young shifter could make out on the other man, the wolf looked _familiar_. Tilting his head, TJ leaned forward to get a closer look, “do you have dragon scales, too?” He asked suddenly.

“Go get my pup’s gift and we will talk in safety. And if your companions are a threat, I’ll kill you all.” Jefferson crossed his arms, staring intently at the fox-shifter.

“We have no desire to hurt you or your pup,” TJ assured and stepped over to grab the shift off the ground. He didn’t make the mistake of trying to offer it to the pup; he handed it directly to Jefferson, “even if you didn’t have reservations of doing so.”

The wolf-shifter took the clothing and turned towards his pup, his voice softening to one of coaxing love, much like Johnny’s tones to TJ. “Grace, come get your new outfit, one like Papa’s.” Jefferson carefully draped the canine blanket over his pup, though it seemed far too large for her, and fastened the belt underneath.

TJ looked at the pup; he hadn’t been around many young creatures other than himself while in Hydra. He moved his eyes back to Jefferson, eyeing the silver scar wrapping around the man’s neck. “They chained you . . .” the fox said softly, with sudden sympathy at the revelation.

Once the oversized cloth hung, dwarfing, over the pup, Jefferson looked up. “They’d hardly let a scrier go free, but I broke those chains and got away with my Grace.” He turned back to the dark-brown furred pup. “You can shift now and once you shift back, it will be the right size, Gracey.”

In the darkened forest, the pup obeyed, turning into a bipedal girl no older than TJ had been at capture. She shifted back to her pup form and the cloth did fit perfectly, elf magic being able to adjust to the wearer.

Seemingly well pleased, Jefferson stroked the cloth and nodded. “This will be warm in cold, and cool in hot. A fine shift, Gracey.” He slowly turned to TJ. “I have nothing to offer for you to cover yourself, unless you want a battered old jacket with too many patches.”

Looking back at the tunnel, and then back at Jefferson, TJ said, “if you’d like to speak privately, I will take a battered old jacket over nothing . . .”

Jefferson slid out of the long coat he wore and held it out to TJ. “You may bring your friends, but I will be watching.”

Taking the coat, TJ slipped it on; the coat hung loose on his thin, still malnourished looking frame but the fox simply closed it around his body. “Thank you,” TJ nodded, enjoying the warmth the coat offered.

“Well, if one has to walk around without fur, it’s a fine substitute,” Jefferson commented. “Bring your friends away from the lake. It’s too open. We can talk further in. If they thirst, there is water in ten minutes walk.”

Nodding, TJ asked, “you’ll still be here when I turn back around, right?”

“Maybe,” Jefferson’s voice hinted at laughter and mischief.

“Maybe will have to do,” TJ turned and walked from the forest’s edge towards his companions.

Bucky, at seeing his younger brother in an unfamiliar coat, frowned, the fox had been out of sight for a long time and it’d made the dragon nervous. TJ looked up and frowned himself, “when did storm clouds move in?”

“Did you find something?” Steve asked softly and Johnny moved closer, looking worried.

“A nice coat,” TJ gestured to the too-large jacket and then added, “come on,” he turned back towards Jefferson and Grace just as a clap of thunder echoed through the woods. The others followed.

Jefferson growled softly, “decided to try the weather change idea after all?” He once more stood protectively in front of his pup, but had remained himself in bipedal form.

“We keep getting these freak storms,” TJ commented, wrapping Jefferson’s coat tighter around himself.

“Right,” Jefferson drawled, looking at Bucky’s hand, clasped in Steve’s.

Bucky flushed, the emotion seemed to be followed by a flash of lightning, the dragon didn’t say anything . . . just squeezed Steve’s hand tightly.

“We need to go deeper. You stink of fear. Were you followed?” Jefferson looked over TJ then scooped up Grace and started into the woods at a quick pace.

Following Jefferson, his bare feet not making a sound against the forest floor, TJ looked back at his group and gestured for them to follow. Bucky huffed and pulled Steve with him as he obeyed. The storm faded away before it could really begin.

“We hope not,” Steve answered the wolf-shifter’s question but followed where Bucky led, eyes on the dark silhouette they followed.

Johnny brought up the rear, a bit slower, but a lot quieter than Steve and Bucky, despite how light on their feet the pair were.

Ten minutes later, as promised, the sound of a gentle clear murmuring came to them and Jefferson pushed back some branches to reveal a small glen complete with fresh stream and moonlit clearing. “You may drink here and we can talk for a moment, but we’ll move on in another ten minutes, so don’t waste time.” Jefferson put Grace down and she headed straight for a drink at the stream.

TJ looked over at his mate as Johnny approached and asked softly as he crouched down to scoop up some of the cold water, “you doing alright?”

Nodding, smiling gently at TJ, Johnny said, “thank you, yes.” He began scooping fresh water himself, eyes lighting in pleasure at the clear, cold taste. “This water’s untouched, pure . . . the kind elves use in potions.” He glanced towards Jefferson, standing by his pup, and Johnny drew in a shocked breath. “TJ . . .”

“What?” TJ asked, looking at his mate with wide eyes.

Nodding towards the clearly visible wolf-shifter, Johnny whispered, “have you looked at him?”

Looking over at Jefferson, TJ could clearly see the resemblance between himself and the wolf-shifter. Bucky seemed to catch on as well as he tugged Steve’s hand and gestured to Jefferson with a tilt of his head.

Steve looked over and his eyes widened. “Your father was a bit . . . friendlier than we thought?” he leapt right to the conclusion that Jefferson must be one of the dragon’s byblows.

Bucky nodded, not taking his eyes off Jefferson. It wasn't clear if the wolf-shifter was older or younger than Bucky; they looked close to the same age. “How many children do you suppose he has?”

“How promiscuous are dragons normally?” Steve asked in return. “So far I count you and Becca, TJ and Doug, and now Jefferson.”

“Like I said, dragons normally have _one_ mate but that doesn't stop them from lying with others. Obviously my father liked to sleep around . . .” Bucky frowned softly, shaking his head.

Nodding, Steve said, “so there’s no telling how many females he chose to lie with.” Stroking Bucky’s silvered hand, he mused, “I wonder if any might be pure dragon like you and Becca.”

“Hard to say,” Bucky sighed, looking troubled, “there weren’t many dragons even back when my parents were still alive. And there haven’t been any signs of dragons, other than Becca and myself, in these parts for years. He’d have to have had traveled far to mate with another pure dragon.”

Glancing over at Jefferson who intently watched his pup drinking then the surrounding area for any trouble, Steve sighed. “Or he could have lain with an elf using shifter magicks?”

“Yes, I guess he could’ve done that, but then the shifter wouldn’t be _pure_ dragon,” Bucky pointed out.

“But the magic would be able to make the children pure since elf shifting transforms the infant specifically to the dam’s chosen form, even if it’s magickal. It would be almost impossible to tell one from the pure thing. Dragon shifting leaves behind the scales, but elf shifting works better.” Steve didn’t say it with arrogance, merely stating a fact. “I’m just glad _they_ haven’t figured it out, since _they’d_ kidnap a bunch of elf shifters and use us to breed dragons or other rare races.”

Bucky nodded his agreement, “yes, that would be something they’d do.”

Johnny walked over to TJ and smiled softly. “Did you want to keep wearing his coat, or do you want a shift?” He actually seemed a bit recovered, despite the added walking they’d been doing.

Looking over, TJ nodded, “he probably wants it back,” the fox-shifter looked down at the tattered coat and then over at Jefferson before turning back to Johnny.

With a nod, the elf pulled out a dark green outfit and handed it over to TJ. “There are two others left, as well.”

“Thank you,” TJ took the shift and quickly changed from Jefferson’s coat. The young shifter walked over to Jefferson and handed the jacket back to it’s owner.

Looking down at the coat in his hands, Jefferson lifted his eyes to study TJ. Slowly, he slid into the coat and nodded. “Grace, pup, it’s time to go again. Come here.” She lifted a wet, dripping mouth and hurried over. He picked the pup up and slipped her into one of his vast pockets. “We go,” he informed the others then turned and began making his quiet way through the trees, deeper into the forest. As he walked, he shifted to wolf form, the bulge of his pup making him appear to have a deformity of his fur . . . so the clothing looked like fur once he’d shifted.

TJ looked back at Johnny before he shifted and followed Jefferson deeper into the forest. The paws were a lot better to travel with than his bare feet and he could hear a lot better in his fox form.

Johnny and Steve followed as only elves could through woods, avoiding making loud noises, though Johnny was smoother. Steve paused often to make sure Bucky was keeping up. Bucky kept up with the others; though quiet by _human_ standards, he was the loudest out of them all.

Another hour of heavy travel passed before Jefferson called another halt, this time in a grove of old oaks near but not too close to the same stream. He looked at them intently before leading them into the grove. Steve glanced at Bucky and whispered, “Faerie circle, be respectful and careful. Don’t eat or drink.”

Bucky looked at Steve, surprise crossing his features; he’d never seen a faerie before but he’d heard of the tricks they played on ignorant humans. The dragon nodded before following the group into the grove.

Once inside the circle, an odd feeling of other-timeliness passed over the group, one by one, when they got through the ring into the grove. Jackson shifted back to bipedal form and pulled Grace from his pocket to let her free. She respectfully sat down and didn’t cause a ruckus. Jefferson turned to the others. “We can talk here and make plans if you need. But don’t try magic. Their magic is superior here.”

TJ shifted back, he gave a small smile to the little pup; he hadn’t gotten a good look at her before. He looked at Jefferson, “you’ll help us find my brother?”

The little pup, the only one still in animal form, had sable brown fur, thick and well-kept. Jefferson settled right beside her. He turned to TJ. “Yes, but then we will be even.”

“I’m not keeping score, Jefferson,” TJ said softly, “what’s in the past is in the past. There is nothing either of us can do to change it.”

“They had my mate and pups,” Jefferson said very softly, looking at Grace.

“Jefferson,” TJ sighed and chewed his bottom lip before continuing, “you don’t have to explain . . . I’m sorry for what I said. They are evil people . . .”

“An explanation is all I have. I helped them capture your family and most of them were killed. I had my own family to think about, and most of _them_ were killed. In the end, no one was safe.” Jefferson glared at the ground, the moonlight catch on his scarred neck once more.

TJ glanced sideways at the other members of his group before looking back at the wolf-shifter, “they killed them because you wouldn’t hunt creatures for them anymore?”

Jefferson met TJ’s eyes. “They wanted dragons. I found them dragons, and they slaughtered your entire family. So, yes, I refused to be a part of that any more. And they started killing my family. I was able to grab only one, Gracey . . . the only one I could sense life in . . .” His eyes shadowed and he looked so grief-stricken it was a wonder he was sane.

Moving closer, TJ reached out, hesitated, and then put his hand on Jefferson’s, “I’m sorry . . . no one should ever have to go through that.”

A sudden hand grasped TJ’s in a strong grip and the wolf-shifter met TJ’s eyes intently, searching, as if reading his soul. He frowned fiercely and said, “no, no one should. Once we are in my den, I can find your brother. But it’s several days for non-animals to journey.” He let go TJ, almost tossing his hand away, and looked down at Grace.

Pulling back his hand, TJ looked at his mate; the fox-shifter moved closer to Johnny, “how are you feeling?”

“Tired but well enough to keep going, little one,” he smiled and stroked his mate’s hair with one strong hand. “And you, TJ, have you noticed the resemblance?” He nodded his chin towards Jefferson.

“Yeah,” TJ sighed and looked at the other shifter, before turning back to his mate, “but he hasn’t said anything and I’m not going to push it. He’s been through a lot.”

Nodding, the elf slid his arm around the fox-shifter and softly asked, “Jefferson, when we are able to find Doug, will you aid us in retrieving him?”

A surprised look crossed the wolf-shifter’s face and he frowned fiercely, but hesitated as Grace looked up at him. Meeting her eyes, Jefferson slowly said, “of course. I got him into there, I should get him out.”

“You don’t have to,” TJ assured, “you will be helping him just by telling us where he is.”

Never breaking the gaze locked with his daughter, Jefferson growled out,”no, a wolf takes responsibility for those he should protect. I will help get his body, dead or alive.” It was apparent he didn’t want to look bad in front of his daughter.

TJ sighed but didn’t say anymore. He was scared about potentially going back to where he’d been kept for years; he couldn’t imagine how Jefferson must feel. 

As it became apparent that no one else was asking about the quest, Jefferson rose to his feet, smoothly. He scooped up Grace and pocketed her once more. Turning to the others, he said, quite clearly, “thank you for the hospitality and safety. I leave you now.” He turned into a wolf and slinked his way from the grove.

Bucky looked at Steve.

Steve nodded and stood. He said, clearly, “thank you for protecting me and allowing me to rest in your beautiful grove. Good evening, my friends.” And he headed out of the trees, giving Bucky a significant look before disappearing. Looking around, Bucky gave his thanks to the faeries before he, too, left the grove.

Johnny rose to his feet and smiled to TJ, nodding towards the treeline.

TJ tilted his head, looking to see if he could spot these faeries everyone was thanking.

Chuckling softly, Johnny shook his head. “TJ, it is your turn. Do not try to look at our shy hosts. I will leave our gift to them.”

Leaning in closer to Johnny, TJ whispered, “how am I supposed to thank them if I can’t see them?”

Nodding, Johnny responded, “you know that they are all around us, in the trees and the leaves and those flowers right there. So, thank them as a group.”

Raising his voice slightly, though he still looked unsure, TJ said, “thank you for . . .” the young shifter looked to his mate to make sure he was saying the right thing. Johnny nodded in encouragement. “Giving us a place to rest and be able to talk to my brother, even if he hasn’t acknowledged that yet . . .”

Johnny smiled and made a small gesture for TJ to leave. But rather than waiting for his mate to leave completely, the elf said, “my humble gratitude for your assistance and friendship. Please, accept this offer of food as a gift for you. May your flowers bloom long and sweet, my friends.” Johnny placed some of the rations from his pack onto a small almost flat rock. He took TJ’s arm and guided him out, whispering, “don’t look back, my dear, they will be offended at being stared at. Faeries only like to be seen by those they show themselves to.”

“But I wanna see them,” TJ whispered back but followed his mate’s orders, despite everything in him wanting to look over his shoulder.

Nodding, Johnny agreed, “it would be something, wouldn’t it? Even I have never seen them, but I wouldn’t dare invade their privacy. After all, Jefferson never verbally asked permission to use their grove.”

“But . . .” TJ turned his head, though stopped himself before he could actually look at at the grove.

Stopping TJ, Johnny grinned, back to the grove. “Give it a moment, love.” He waited, not turning, until the feeling of other-timelessness faded. Nodding, Johnny turned TJ around, but didn’t let him back into the ring of trees. The food wasn’t there any more.

“Why don’t they want to be seen?” TJ asked, looking at the flat rock where Johnny had placed the food. “That seems rather . . . lonely.”

Nodding, Johnny turned TJ back towards the rest of their waiting group. “The stories say that if you disrespect or challenge them, the faeries may come and take your children or make your milk cows run dry or any number of mischief that you don’t want.”

“But _why_?” TJ asked with a small frown, “why would they hurt someone just because they wanna see them to thank them properly?”

“The rest of the story,” Johnny grinned, “says that if you respect them, they will give you gifts of food or free labor or even help you on your journey. I’m not sure why they don’t want to be seen, but I will certainly respect them.” He lifted TJ’s hand and kissed the fingers.

Smiling softly at Johnny, TJ nodded, “I guess . . . everyone deserves respect . . . even if their way of receiving it is a bit odd.”

Johnny nodded. He kissed TJ’s fingers again, eyes slipping over to see Jefferson, as a wolf, watching them very intently. The black-furred creature turned his back to them and began leading the way once more.


	8. Seeing Through His Eyes

An old oak tree, rotten from the inside out, stood surrounded by various other woodland foliage and debris. It was huge and could probably sit fourteen men inside easily, only the empty shell left behind made of bark and the few remaining outer-rings of tree. The wolf stopped, shifting into bipedal form once more, and scooped the exhausted pup from his coat, putting her down on the leafy litterfall. Turning to his originally unwanted companions of five days and nights hard travel, Jefferson growled out, “behind the tree is a good pond with a running stream. Bathe and drink. There should be food inside, if someone hasn’t invaded.”

TJ, in fox form, nodded once to Jefferson before slowly moving towards the promised pond. He felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to rest for a few hours. He shifted to half form near the edge of the water. Looking over his shoulder to make sure Grace wasn’t wandering about, TJ groaned and pulled the magickal shift over his head and let it fall to the dry ground.

Johnny quickly followed his mate then stood, staring at the beautiful form of his partially transformed lover. He smiled softly. “You are so beautiful, my dear,” he said softly. Johnny began to strip down so he, too, could bathe.

Flushing softly, TJ looked over at Johnny; TJ slowly lifted one hand to the top of his head to brush his fingertips against his soft ears. His captors had never shown him kindness; he was still unused to being showered with compliments “Oh . . . I don’t know about that . . .” TJ murmured.

“Please, TJ, feel free to stay in any version you like. You are so beautiful in any shift,” Johnny reassured with a loving smile.

“Y - - you don’t mind me like this?” TJ asked, eyes wide as he looked at Johnny. He knew that his mate had offered the dress-like clothing for this very reason, but his captors had always been especially cruel when he couldn’t shift one way or the other.

“Would you believe me if I told you that this is your most beautiful form yet?” Johnny asked and walked over, reaching out to gently stroke one ear. “Has anyone told you that a shifter, when unconscious, assumes his natural form?” Johnny offered some soap to his lover. “And at times when you sleep, I watch you in this form?”

Blinking, TJ watched his mate for a long moment, his ear twitched under Johnny’s strokes, “you’ve seen me like this before . . . an - - and you enjoy it? Honest?”

“Yes,” Johnny said with confidence, smiling. “I think you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, TJ. The tail and ears enhance your beauty. The slightly shifted nose, the beginning of soft webbing that would lead to paws, everything about you is gorgeous and soft and wonderful.” Johnny reached over to pull TJ against him, revealing that under the water he was partially erect. “Do you believe me, little one?”

Mewling softly, TJ gave Johnny a wide smile, revealing some slightly pointed teeth, the beginnings of his canines. The fox-shifter nodded and nuzzled at his mate’s neck, breathing in his scent.

“Do you think our host would be offended if we bathed then found some private place to love?” Johnny asked softly, kissing TJ’s neck then moving up to kiss his soft furry ear.

Releasing a series of needy, high-pitched clicking noises, TJ wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck as his hips gently ground against his mate’s. The shifter started to kiss and nip, slightly more painful with the fangs, at Johnny’s neck.

Whimpering in desire, Johnny actually exposed his throat to more nips of pain-pleasure. He moaned very softly. “Wanna find a private little place and bathe after?” he offered.

“Yes, want you now,” TJ growled softly, though the growl was in his natural high-pitched tone.

Nodding, ignoring their clothes still lying at the side of the pond, Johnny scooped up his mate and carried him from the waters, heading into the underbrush. He lay his mate down and began to explore the half-form with loving kisses and strokes.

Gasping under the explorations, TJ’s back arched into those hands. The shifter broke off into a series of needy, animalistic noises. He wrapped his arms tightly around Johnny’s neck as he canted his hips, grinding up against his mate’s filling shaft.

TJ’s own need driving him on, Johnny reached under him, between TJ’s legs and began caressing TJ’s entrance, a light mist of oil forming at the elf’s fingers. He didn’t enter yet, merely stroking and massaging while he kissed and nipped lightly at his mate’s throat.

Growling quietly, TJ extended his neck, giving his lover better access to that area. The shifter rolled his hips in time with Johnny’s fingers. TJ moved his arms from Johnny’s neck to run his fingers down his mate’s back, dragging his fingernails down the soft flesh.

“So very pretty, my little foxy TJ,” Johnny murmured as he kissed TJ’s neck. Finally he began to carefully slide one finger into his mate, stretching him lovingly. His other hand moved between the pair to encircle TJ’s erection and gently begin to stroke.

Keening as Johnny finally began to stretch him, TJ looked up at his lover. The pale blue was barely visible in the fox’s eyes and his cheeks were flushed with arousal. Letting himself stay in his natural form allowed TJ to completely focus on the pleasure he was feeling: he’d never felt anything like it with anyone but Johnny.

“Such a pretty boy,” Johnny whispered, “so soft and loving.” He caressed over TJ’s prostate as he slid his finger deeper, twisting and curling slightly as he stretched his mate. Johnny’s other hand kept a gentle rhythm.

Yipping in pleasure as Johnny stroked over his prostate, sending a jolt of pleasure throughout his body, TJ canted his hips again to grind against his mate’s cock; the friction drew another mewl from the shifter.

Johnny chuckled low into TJ’s neck and began to stroke his single finger in and out of TJ’s passage, loosening as he pleasured the fox-shifter. “You are so warm and soft for me, my love, so very sweet.” He gently nipped at TJ’s neck, right over the mate mark, careful to keep his hand on TJ’s erection slow and steady to stimulate but not drive him forward yet.

As Johnny’s teeth nipped over the mate mark, TJ let out a contented mewl. Everything felt so much better in his natural form; he never wanted this moment to end.

Johnny lifted his face to smile down at his mate. “May I touch your glorious tail, love?” he breathed.

Panting, TJ nodded, “I can . . . flip over if you’d like?”

“Would you rather flip?” Johnny asked, letting go TJ’s erection to slide his hand back and stroke the underneath of TJ’s tail right where it met his ass.

A whole body tremor rushed through TJ as Johnny stroked his tail. The fox canted his hips again, wanting more than just one of Johnny’s fingers.

“Did you like that, my dear?” Johnny whispered and repeated the tail stroke while sliding a second finger into his mate. “So very expressive, my precious TJ. I love the sounds of love you make for me.”

Keening again, a bit louder this time as his lover stroked his tail and added a second finger, TJ looked up at Johnny as he continued to pant and gasp his pleasure.

Johnny nodded. “My sweet little fox. Someday I’ll shift for you and we’ll both be foxes.” He sealed TJ’s mouth with a brief kiss then moved on to nip his neck once more, scissoring and curving his fingers, stroking TJ’s prostate once more. He rarely stroked that bipedal pleasure spot, so TJ wouldn’t become too sensitized too quickly.

“Want . . . you . . . please,” TJ managed to gasp out through the erotic pleasure thrumming through his body. TJ’s soft ears twitched lightly with the noises they made.

“Patience, my dear,” Johnny chuckled low. “I want to stretch you for me so you aren’t hurt, my love.” He carefully added a third finger, moving his other hand to stroke back over TJ’s erection, though Johnny was able to use his thumb to slide over the underside of TJ’s tail base. “So sexy, my foxy TJ.”

Whimpering, TJ canted his hips, trying to get Johnny’s fingers in deeper. “Won’t . . . hurt,” TJ insisted needily, the pleasure he felt throughout his entire body made him push for _more_. Making those clicking noises again, TJ ran his fingernails down Johnny’s back again, pulling his mate closer.

“Far be it from me to prove you wrong, my dear,” Johnny laughed then gasped at the wonderful pain-pleasure of those nails in his flesh. He nuzzled TJ’s neck and continued working with only three fingers, stroking TJ’s erection in a counter-rhythm suddenly, changing the pace and stroke. Caressing over his mate’s prostate once more, Johnny carefully pulled all three fingers out and placed the tip of his own erection at TJ’s hot entrance.

TJ let out a keen when he felt Johnny lining up; the fox scratched at Johnny’s back again, accidentally tearing some of the flesh in his need.

Whining at the increased pain, but not protesting, Johnny eased himself past the tight ring of muscle and worked slowly into the fox, deeper and deeper. He moved in a steady stroke, until he bottomed out, flush with TJ. Letting go of his own shaft, Johnny pushed that little bit further in then kissed TJ’s mate mark and stroked the underneath of his tail base. “Mine,” he growled.

“Yes, yes, your’s,” TJ insisted on a needy breath, “all your’s,” the fox wrapped his legs around Johnny’s waist, pushing his lover in even deeper.

Moving his mouth to capture TJ’s. Johnny slid his tongue in past the shifter’s lips, imitating the act they readily performed with the rest of their bodies. He started a rhythm, slow and deep, his hand beginning to stroke TJ’s cock with the same slow rhythm. He let his fingers circle over and around TJ’s cockhead, spreadng precum and elf oil as he worked his lover.

Growling into Johnny’s mouth, TJ matched the slow steady pace with ease, keeping his legs wrapped around his mate. The fox’s tail brushed against the ground with each thrust, adding even more sensation to the shifter’s pleasure.

Slowly, Johnny brought his free hand up and stroked over TJ’s ears, a soft, petting touch, reminiscent of his calming, loving gesture he always used when the fox was in his smaller form. Johnny broke the kiss to move his mouth the the top of TJ’s breast bone, beginning to nip and lick lightly down TJ’s sternum as he continued to stroke easily into him. “Mine,” he claimed over and over.

Too far gone in the pleasure he felt, all TJ could do was nod his agreement to the claim. The only sounds the fox made were gasps and keens as his mate thrust into him.

Eventually, Johnny picked up the pace of his thrusts, angling his hips so he could hit TJ’s prostate every third or fourth stroke. He drove his mate higher and higher, working at release for the both of them, wanting to fill his love full and deep. Despite knowing he could not impregnate his male mate, Johnny had a mate’s need to provide his seed for his lover.

Yipping loudly at the change in angle and pace, TJ’s legs coiled tighter around Johnny’s waist; he knew he was getting close to release as his hips slipped out of the rhythm that his mate had set.

With a low groan, Johnny bit down on TJ’s mate mark, barely breaking the skin with his non-sharp teeth. He thrust hard and deep then released rope after rope of hot thick white seed deep into his lover’s passage, feeling something satisfying in being able to fill TJ with his love. “Mine,” he groaned as he came.

Keening, TJ followed his mate over the edge, painting his and Johnny’s chests with his cum. Something deep in the fox finally felt satisfied as Johnny filled him with his seed. The shifter let out a high, contented keen, letting his legs unwrap from his mate’s waist and slump to the ground.

Johnny cuddled his lover close, protective around the satiated fox-shifter. Soon he would gather them up to bathe then enter Jefferson’s protective home in the oak tree, but until then, Johnny forced himself to remain on alert as TJ rested, though the elf contented himself with carefully stroking his fingers over his mate’s body, including his ears and very lightly over his tail. He actually remained embedded inside his lover, much as a natural fox would with a knot.

Over by the oak tree, Bucky looked over at Steve; the sounds of a mating could easily be heard over by the pond. The dragon rubbed the back of his neck and turned his attention to Jefferson, “sorry . . .” he said softly, “TJ’s in rut . . .”

“In rut with a _male_ mate? Wouldn’t that put them both in rut and make them compete for . . . dominance?” Jefferson murmured, keeping an eye on Grace to make sure she stayed away from the pond for the moment.

Frowning, Bucky glanced over in the direction of the pond, even though he couldn’t see either Johnny or TJ, “TJ . . . from what I can tell, never fights for dominance . . .”

“Sounds like he's in heat, not rut. Those yips and clicks? They’re sexual sounds, but there’s no dominance to them. When I first scented him, I wasn’t sure if he was female or male. Still not sure.” Jefferson looked down at his hands, shaping something from bark and cloth.

“But he _is_ a male,” Bucky insisted, he looked over to Steve, “right?”

“He has a male’s penis and testes,” Steve confirmed. “We’ve all seen it.”

Looking back at Jefferson, Bucky nodded, “TJ is male . . . so he’d be in rut, right? Males don’t go into heat.”

Looking back up, Jefferson asked, nonchalantly, “so he escaped Hydra before that insane butcher managed to experiment on him? That’s good.” He looked back at the basket he wove.

“What butcher?” Bucky asked softly, glancing quickly over at his mate with a worried expression. “Hydra experimented on their prisoners?”

“All the time,” Jefferson sighed. “One of the most diabolical humans called himself Zola. He liked to see if he could change creatures. He tried to make them shifters or combine them with shifters or even change their natural genders.”

“Jefferson . . . TJ only escaped a little over a _week_ ago,” Bucky said softly, voice worried for his little brother. Even if Bucky had only met TJ a few days ago, he already felt protective of the fox-shifter.

Sighing, Jefferson said, “then he’s in heat, not rut. Only the heavens know what that’ll do to him . . . how successful Zola was with his unnatural changes.”

“Wait,” Bucky shook his head, “you’re saying TJ’s in _heat_ . . . but won’t that mean he could get pregnant? H - - how would that work?”

“Just because Zola managed to make the fox into a partial female, doesn’t mean he can successfully get pregnant. If he can, it might not be a viable infant, unable to form. It depends on if TJ has a working womb.” Jefferson frowned severely, eyes darting over to check Grace again.

“He will,” Steve vowed softly, sounding very sure of himself.

Looking over at Steve, Bucky frowned, “he will, what?”

“He will be able to carry to term and deliver a healthy kit,” Steve clarified.

“How do you know?” Bucky asked; he looked towards the pond again, noting there was no more noise coming from the two mating.

“Because my mother, Sarah, healed him of all Hydra’s curses and injuries. She wouldn’t have removed or altered anything inside him, only healed it. So, TJ’s internal organs will be fine now. If they made him female internally, Mother was able to heal him and grow him whatever missing parts he would need to be completely whole. He’s a working female _and_ male now.” Steve stretched his back, frowning softly, eyes worried. “He’ll need help whelping.”

“But he’s a _male_. He won’t have a passage for the kit, or kits, to come out,” Bucky sounded extremely worried. Above them, dark storm clouds began to form, the smell of rain permeated the air.

Steve touched Bucky’s silvered hand and softly smiled, though his eyes remained worried. “Elf magic can help him deliver through the same passage he became pregnant from, without tearing him or any lasting harm. He will deliver fine.”

“You know things about delivering kits? I thought you weren’t practiced in medicine,” Bucky couldn’t help the fear, the fear for his little brother who’d gone through so much already. A clap of thunder followed the dragon’s concerned questions and then a sudden downpour of rain.

“Johnny has delivered many creatures, he’s just not as good as Mother.” Steve looked up at the storm, letting the rain wash over his face as if he welcomed it, whereas many creatures would have hidden from the deluge. Slowly, Steve met Bucky’s eyes and walked over to his mate, taking his hand up and placing the silvered fingers over Steve’s chest, letting him feel the steady beating of his elvish heart. “I am worried about how to hide such a valuable mix-breed from Hydra, not how TJ will deliver, my love. Calm yourself.” And thus, Steve revealed he had long suspected his mate’s moods to influence the weather, a rare power indeed.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky forced himself to take several deep breaths, focusing on the steady beating of Steve’s heart. After a few minutes of the heavy rain and thunder, the rain died off and the skies cleared once more. “Sorry . . .” Bucky flushed, leaving his hand on Steve’s chest.

“I love the weather, and storms energize me, Bucky. I don’t mind. But little Grace is now covered in mud,” Steve chuckled.

Rolling his eyes, Jefferson got up and went to retrieve his daughter. “She’ll find mud in a drought. She’s a mud magnet.” He sounded more amused than annoyed.

Bucky ran his flesh hand through his wet hair and nodded; he slowly, reluctantly lowered his scaled hand. He’d been trying to work on keeping himself calm, but that proved very hard to do. He looked over at Jefferson, and took another steadying breath before asking, “do you know how long a fox’s gestation is? If TJ’s healed and able to produce kits . . . we should expect that he’s pregnant.”

“In around fifty days,” Jefferson looked over, his muddy pup in his hands. “So, we either hurry to work this quest or we make TJ stay out of it or we put it off indefinitely.” He turned towards the pond, calling out, “Grace needs a bath, doesn’t she?” Grace gave a wolf pup yip of pleasure.

TJ, slowly coming back to himself, looked up at Johnny; they were both soaked from the sudden, brief rainstorm. He let out a soft coo and then a smile, “that was . . . nice.”

“Nice?” chuckled Johnny. “I’d say it was glorious, but nice is good, too.” He carefully scooped up his lover and carried him up to the tree, leaving trees between them and Jefferson with the pup. “At least that wonderful warm spring rain helped wash us down.” He smiled towards Bucky and winked, as if he were in on some joke. “Often use that to remind lovers to share public spaces, brother?”

Bucky looked at Johnny and gave the elf a small smile, though his eyes were still worried as he glanced over at TJ. The dragon wondered just how much TJ would be forced to endure . . . did he even know what that evil man had done to him?

Johnny noted the worry from both Bucky and Steve. He nuzzled at TJ’s neck and stood him up, not at all ashamed to show his half-transformed mate. Squatting, the nude elf began going through his pack to pull out clothing for them both. “Okay, what’s happened? Both of you look like something catastrophic is about to occur.” He handed the dark green shift to TJ and pulled out matching trousers and top for himself.

TJ pulled on the clothing, humming in contentment as the shift worked well with his tail. The fox-shifter tilted his head as he glanced over at Steve and Bucky, his ears twitching as his expression faded to one of worry.

Steve nodded and waited for TJ to dress before approaching him. “TJ?” he kept his voice gentle, “I’m going to ask you about your time with Hydra. Do you mind answering some questions?”

“I’ve already told you about my time with Hydra,” TJ said softly, ears going slightly flat against his skull.

Nodding, Steve said, “Jefferson mentioned a human named Zola? Did you meet him? Did he hurt you?”

Ears flattening all the way, TJ hugged himself tightly and nodded, eyes falling to the floor, “I - - I didn’t like the Doctor . . .” the young shifter muttered.

Nodding, Steve cautiously reached out to touch TJ’s shoulder. “I ask because we think he may have done something to change your natural body, TJ. And we want to help you.”

Looking up at Steve, TJ whined, a scared, vulnerable noise from the back of his throat, “what did he do?”

“Please sit? Let Johnny hold you while we talk?” Steve asked softly, eyes worried and caring.

TJ looked over at Johnny, eyes wide and scared as he continued to hug himself, brown ears flat with his worry.

Johnny spread his arms in welcome, smiling encouragingly. “Come sit with me, my precious love?”

The fox-shifter sat down next to his mate and scooted in close to Johnny’s side.

Johnny carefully pulled his mate onto his lap, making sure TJs tail remained unhindered. He reached up and began softly stroking TJ’s ears, whispering into them how much he loved his wonderful, beautiful fox.

As Steve opened his mouth to begin, Jefferson trudged through the trees carrying the discarded clothing. Behind him walked a wet little girl with dark blond hair and huge brown eyes, perhaps eight years old, the same age as when TJ had been kidnapped; she wore the dark grey shift she’d been given. Jefferson put the clothing down beside Johnny and frowned softly. “This looks serious.”

TJ looked up at Jefferson with large, scared eyes; he didn’t say anything as he turned his attention back to Steve.

“We were talking to TJ about what that human did to him,” Steve explained.

“Zola?” Jefferson nodded frowning. “Grace, go into the den and check to see we have enough food and water for six creatures.” She obeyed, reluctantly as she seemed to sense the talk was being put on hold because of her, and she had the natural curiosity of a child. Once the girl had disappeared, Jefferson looked at TJ. “So, how far did we get? Did we discuss the changes he would have made or the results?”

“Changes?” TJ whimpered, looking between Steve and Jefferson, “what’s going on?”

“Ever wonder why you desire a male inside you when you’re in rut, TJ?” Jefferson asked bluntly.

Bucky frowned at Jefferson, not sure bluntness was the way to go with TJ, who seemed so sensitive and innocent despite what the fox-shifter had been through.

“I - - I . . . don’t know?” TJ flushed bright red.

Softening his voice, but being just as direct, Jefferson said, “there’s nothing wrong with two males mating, TJ. I see it in nature often enough. But normally during a rut, the rutting male wants to be the one inside, not the other way round. That’s a heat thing.”

“A _heat_ . . .” TJ’s eyes widened even more, “but - - I . . . I’m not - - I don’t go into heat . . . that’s just something the guards would say to be _cruel_.”

“No, I think they meant to be cruel by being honest. Zola was perverse enough to try to change creatures into other ones. He experimented, it’s called, on anything and anyone. One of his favorites was to try to make males and females the other gender, see if he could get them to successfully produce offspring in the other role.”

Cuddling his mate, Johnny kissed his neck. “So, Zola was trying to copy elf magic through that science thing humans worship?”

“But . . .” TJ whimpered, “I never had any kits . . . they,” the fox-shifter flushed again, ducking his head.

Johnny gently filled in the blank, “they tried to impregnate you as a fox and as a biped, didn’t they, my love?”

Nodding, TJ felt his eyes burning with tears, “it hurt . . .”

“Oh, how cruel they were to my precious dear,” Johnny nuzzled his mate’s neck, nipping very lightly at the mate mark to remind TJ who he was now with, where he was at that moment. “So, this barbaric human tried to make my TJ into both male and female, and tested it by trying to impregnate him, but failed wonderfully every time.” Johnny smiled for TJ. “So you didn’t have to bring a kit into that hellish world.”

“I - - I . . .” TJ lifted tear-washed eyes to looked at Jefferson, “am I pregnant?”

Steve was the one who fielded that question. “When Mother healed you, TJ, she wouldn’t have questioned any parts she sensed inside you. If she sensed female parts, she would have healed them, too. So, we think that you are probably pregnant now, because you’ve been healed fully.”

Johnny lay one strong hand over TJ’s abdomen and nuzzled his neck. “Elves also have magic that can terminate pregnancies early if the dam is sick or unable to carry a viable infant. It is a choice you have, my love. Do not make it yet, but think about it. You are not trapped in one way or another.”

“But . . . why would he _do_ this?” TJ’s voice shook, “why would they want a male shifter to bear children? Couldn’t they just capture a female?”

Jefferson nodded, “and have two creatures to feed when they could use their perverse _science_ to make a male or female have both genders. Then the humans could impregnate who they want of their own race. Humans are disgusting.”

“Not all humans are like that,” Johnny said, “but Hydra is. And Jefferson’s right. If they can get creatures to both sire and dam, they can hold onto less creatures to work with. They can use a creature whom they love the traits of to both get pregnant and get someone else pregnant.”

“They never had me try to _get_ anyone pregnant,” TJ murmured, looking ashamed.

Very softly in TJ’s ear, Johnny asked, “would you like to try? I volunteer.”

“I don’t know if I’d like it . . .” TJ said softly, “what if they made it so I don’t want to do that? Could they do that?”

Johnny chuckled softly and nuzzled TJ’s neck, “then we continue in the arrangement we already have, my pet. I don’t mind either way, though, like you, I prefer our current way. But if you want to try, I’m here to work with you. If you like it, we’ll add it to our current loving.” He used a finger to gently lift TJ’s chin so their eyes met, “and I don’t think they could change your desires, just your body. So, if you desire to be entered like a female, then you were always like that. That’s maybe why they chose you to try to change to a female.”

“But, then something was wrong with me before they changed me,” TJ whimpered, a single tear falling down his cheek.

“Oh, no, little one, nothing was _wrong_ with you before they touched you. Haven’t you listened? Jefferson and I have both seen males with males and females with females among all the creatures in nature. It’s rare, but not unnatural or wrong. Nothing was broken or twisted. You are as nature made you and my soul mate. You see, TJ, I _prefer_ a male lover, too. I love the body of a male in my arms. So, nature made sure that we both had the body the other desired.” Johnny touched his lips to TJ’s and hummed softly in pleasure. “And you are a very perfect fit in my arms, my beautiful foxy lover.”

“And you . . . you are not disgusted that I’ve been taken by others?” TJ asked softly.

Johnny tilted his head in imitation of his fox mate. “Are you disgusted that I’ve had other lovers, TJ?” he countered.

“N - - no,” TJ said, his ears lifting slightly.

Smiling wider, Johnny said, “and I am certainly not disgusted others have sexed you, but know this, my precious little one. I have now _mated_ , for the first time, and I intend to remain faithful to that mate. Will you do the same for me? Be my mate for the rest of our lives?”

Ears perking up all the way, TJ looked at his mate and smiled, a few more tears falling down his cheeks, “yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Then we are indeed a perfectly matched set. And whatever this world tries to do, we will face together. I love you, my wonderful TJ, my precious mate.” Johnny kissed TJ’s lips lightly in a sweet promise.

Jefferson sighed, “so, if TJ has gotten with kit, then what do we want to do? Does he come with us to get Doug? Does he stay behind?”

Steve looked at TJ and Johnny. “With Johnny’s magic to aid creatures, TJ will deliver fine if he chooses to carry the kit or kits to term and whelp. So, we need to find out where Doug is so we can judge how difficult a rescue it is. Then TJ can make an informed choice as to whether he joins us or not.”

The noise of twigs and leaves rustling drew TJ’s attention as his head snapped in the direction of the noise. He blinked when he saw a fox very much like himself standing a few yards away.

Glancing over, Jefferson frowned as if he didn’t like the female fox. He turned his attention back to the group and grumped, “Anne.”

The fox shifted, revealing a small, black haired woman; much like Jefferson, she wore patched clothes that shifted with her body and looked like fur when in her fox form. She nodded at the wolf-shifter, “welcome home, Jefferson, I see you brought guests, nice of you to inform me,” her tone dripped with playful sarcasm.

“My home, my rules,” Jefferson said back. “Anne, this is TJ, my half-brother. Also Bucky, another half-brother. And their mates, Johnny, with TJ, and Steve, with Bucky.” He picked up the basket he’d been weaving earlier. “Grace is inside.” Without looking up, he said, “this is Anne. She tends Grace.”

TJ looked at the woman with wide eyes, still slightly red from his tears, “you’re like me?”

Anne smiled gently, as if knowing that gentleness was the way to go with the young shifter, “I am an arctic fox-shifter, yes, just like you.”

Johnny smiled, arms still around his mate. “Hello, Anne. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you Jefferson’s neighbor, live in friend, or mate?”

Grumbling, Jefferson said, “hardly a mate! More like live in burden and sometimes help.”

“Ah, yes,” Anne laughed, a sweet, melodic sound, “a real thorn, I am.”

Steve snickered, “just like Natasha?” He glanced at Bucky.

Bucky smiled softly, looking at the pretty woman, and then over at Steve. “And every time you try to pull out a thorn, they always seem to sink in deeper.”

“Ha,” Jefferson seemed to agree. “Know any foxes who want a mate who loves to rearrange the den every season?”

“Just because you have no _style_ , does not mean _I_ can’t,” Anne shot at Jefferson with a playful glare, before looking at the other members of the group, “he’d just leave it the same every single year. How dreadfully boring.”

Grace looked out and smiled, clapping her hands. “Anne! Is boring mature talk done so I can come out again?”

“Oh?” Anne looked to Jefferson, “you were having a boring mature talk without me? How did you survive?”

Looking up, meeting her dark eyes with his own pale, Jefferson growled low, “we are talking about trying to save TJ’s twin from the humans who hurt us.” His finger flicked up to caress over his neck scar before dropping back to the basket.

“Another fox-shifter, I assume?” Anne looked delighted at the prospect of finding another one of her kind.

“Same dam and sire as TJ, so yes, a fox-dragon,” he said.

“ _Dragon_?” Anne’s eyes widened at she looked back at TJ, her eyes catching on the scales on the brunet’s upper thigh and then moved to Bucky, noting the scaled fingers and clavicle. She turned back to Jefferson, her eyes narrowing slightly, “you never told me you were part _dragon_!”

Sighing, Jefferson pulled off his jacket then shirt, revealing a swirling ebony pattern of scales across his back, shoulders, and chest, shining in the sunlight. “Happy? You know now.”

“Yes, quite happy,” Anne never seemed bothered by Jefferson’s changing moods and often, downright rude attitude. “So, do you all share the same dam or sire?”

“Sire, apparently, since my dam was a wolf-shifter.” Jefferson began pulling his shirt back on, though he paused as Grace touched the scales on his back, eyes wide.

“They’re so pretty, Papa!” Her brown eyes shone. “Will I have this, too?”

“Yes, Gracey. When you grow up, you’ll have some scales, too.” He finished pulling his shirt on then his jacket. Jefferson’s voice always went softer when addressing his pup.

TJ’s hand went to his abdomen as he watched Jefferson and Grace interact. Would he and any kits he had interact like that? He’d already decided that terminating the kit, or kits, wasn’t an option. It wasn’t the _kit’s_ fault that Hydra made him into such a twisted creature.

Johnny seemed to sense TJ’s thoughts because he slid his hand over his mate’s and smiled, nuzzling TJ’s neck. “Kit dreams?” he asked softly.

Looking over at Johnny, TJ smiled softly and nodded, “is it okay that I want to keep it? Not terminate the kit, I mean.”

“I would rather keep the kit, my dear. I recall when first we loved, you didn’t want any, but I didn’t understand it was because you were forced to try so many times by those barbarians. But if you are fine with bearing this pregnancy, I am more than pleased to share it with you.” Nuzzling again, his blond roots very evident after a week of not shifting his appearance, Johnny added, “do you think we’ll have one with mixed fur like your mid-season look, or a more traditional solid look?”

“I’m not sure,” TJ smiled looking down at his abdomen, “we will love it no matter what though.”

“And if it cannot shift, we will treasure it all the more,” Johnny added. “Because kits with complications always need that extra support to show they are loved and very much wanted.”

“Of course,” TJ agreed with a smile.

Bucky, overhearing his brother’s and Johnny’s conversation, winced softly and looked away, eyes focused on the ground.

Steve reached over and took Bucky’s scaled hand, frowning in worry. “Bucky?” he questioned softly.

The dragon looked up at Steve, “we should try to see if we can find Doug, that way we can make a decision regarding TJ.” Bucky pushed down his own feelings, ignoring the feeling of incompetence, of being a failure. His expressive pale eyes gave himself away though.

Steve tugged Bucky’s hand, throwing the dragon-shifter off balance and into the elf’s strong arms. He cuddled his mate close and kissed his neck, right at the place where his scales began along the shoulder. “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, too, Steve,” Bucky said softly, letting his mate hold him.

Jefferson finally stood, passing the basket off to Anne. “There, for the berries. So you can quit whining.” He rose to his feet and said, “let’s get inside so I can do this.”

Smiling, Anne took the basket and followed Jefferson inside, “oh! Are you scrying? You haven’t done that in _ages_!”

Jefferson turned to her and frowned fiercely. “We have to find his twin, don’t we? I can’t go running into Hydra hell without knowing where to go.” He turned and stormed into the oak tree.

“A rescue mission, how exciting,” Anne grinned at the wolf, not at all put off by his attitude.

TJ carefully stood, pulling Johnny with him, to follow the others inside the large tree.

Grace walked in, grasping her father’s hand as they moved and he tightened the grip on his daughter’s hand. As Steve and Bucky finally joined them, Jefferson turned and sighed. He pulled out a low, very wide bowl and put it in the center of the floor of the den. He began pouring a bit of water into the bowl. Taking a slow breath, he looked at the others. “Don’t move. Don’t distract me. Grace, go sit by the hearth.” The pup obeyed.

Once everyone seemed to understand, Jefferson leaned over and gripped the bowl on opposite sides, nothing like when an elf scryed by staring into the water intently. Instead, the wolf-shifter suddenly twisted the bowl, sending it spinning like a top. A wind seemed to pick up and the water rose in the air in a mist, almost freezing in place. The grey shifted and blended, colors slowly emerging from the water and wind whirl in the center of the den. Finally, a stone-built domicile with chains and dirt and blood and injured, miserable creatures came into vivid focus. In the corner, though central to the image, was a lone, dark-haired bipedal chained and slumped, looking more dead than alive. His skin hung on his frame and his color was ashen. He opened his eyes partially and let out a small whine then fell silent as if that single plea had exhausted him. The swirl stopped, the image gone, as water splashed all around them to the floor, the bowl titled and almost empty. Jefferson sank to his knees with a thud, trembling and pale, looking tired, so very tired.

TJ looked shocked and worried, pale eyes wide at what he'd just witnessed, and his own horrors at the hands of Hydra came rushing back to him. Being chained, beaten, _abused_ . . . abused over and over again. He hadn't even known his brother was alive, maybe even going through the same horror. Doug was _alive_.

Johnny stroked TJ’s back gently and said, “we’ve got to get him out of there.”

TJ nodded, too shocked, too upset to form words. He couldn't believe Doug was alive . . . was Doug being held in the same facility? Did TJ _leave_ his twin when he escaped?

Jefferson looked up, lip curled in a silent snarl. “That one’s closer than the other,” he panted, as if answering TJ’s unspoken question. “Not familiar with that place.”

Bucky looked angry at the abuse his half-brother was going through, had gone through for _years_. “How close are we talking, Jefferson?”

“A day, maybe day and a half. _Too_ close,” the wolf-shifter growled. “Gotta change dens again.”

Bucky nodded, looking over to Steve, “so it's a different base than where TJ and Jefferson were kept . . . no one knows the layout.”

“Humans can’t scent,” Johnny said. “We can. We have better hearing, especially TJ and Jefferson.We go in, go quiet, at night. Humans are day creatures. They can’t see in dark. We bring food to appease any animal guards.”

“And we take one creature out and leave the rest?” Steve sounded horrified.

“Steve,” Bucky didn't look too happy about the prospect of leaving other creatures behind, “we can give them the opportunity to escape . . . but we don't have enough people to help that many injured creatures.”

“So, we find a way to unchain them if we can, but many won’t make it out.” Steve hugged himself, eyes miserable. “And Hydra continues hunting and abusing the creatures around them.”

Bucky sighed, running his fingers through his still damp hair, “it's the best we can do. Doug won't be able to walk out of there on his own, that will already hinder one of us.”

Nodding, Steve continued holding himself, head bowed, vivid blue eyes miserable.

Grace helped her sire to turn from all fours to his butt, and Jefferson sank to the floor, pulling his daughter wearily into his lap. He sighed. “I can locate the place now I’ve seen it. Can even find that room, since I’ve seen it. But I won’t bring my Grace there. Anne’ll stay here and tend my pup while we’re gone. On our way, we can alert those who are sympathetic to our cause, let them know how close Hydra is coming to our safe havens and families. They’ll clean out that place for us. We can concentrate on getting Doug out. But I need food and sleep. We can go tomorrow.”

Bucky nodded, “we all need rest. It's been a long few days.”

Steve nodded. “Then we should eat and all get some rest.” He sounded unhappy, but less than before. The idea that Jefferson knew others they could alert on their way soothed the elf a bit. He unwrapped his arms from his self-hug and moved to enfold Bucky instead.

Bucky leaned into the embrace, sighing in a mix of exhaustion and unease. He didn't like the idea of going into Hydra, an organization he had managed to hide himself and Becca from for years, but the dragon knew they needed to save Doug.

Steve sank to the ground, tugging Bucky with him, preparing to rest for the evening. He looked towards Jefferson and Grace. “Do you wish help preparing a meal?” he asked.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Feed yourself. I’m exhausted.”

TJ looked over at Johnny and then at Jefferson, he offered “I can go hunt? Do you prefer a type of meat, Jefferson?” He wanted to help the man that had helped find Doug in anyway he could, even if that same man helped Hydra find Doug in the first place.

Jefferson studied TJ for a long moment then nodded. “I prefer rabbit,” he said softly, looking towards his daughter, who nodded with a smile.

Smiling softly, TJ nodded once and shifted before trotting out of the tree trunk in search of some rabbit.

Johnny instantly followed his mate, not wishing any one of the party be left on his own.

The small fox moved carefully and soundlessly through the dense forest, nose low to the ground and ears standing straight as he listened to the environment around him. TJ’s head snapped up at he heard something, nose twitching as he caught scent of something. With quick, precise movements, the fox launched himself in the air, directly over the rabbit, and closed his jaws around the smaller mammals neck, killing it almost instantly.

An arrow whistled past TJ right into something stalking him from behind and above. With a shriek, the creature hissed as it fell in a tawny heap of fur and very long, thick tail. Snarling, arrow neatly through one shoulder, preventing him from rising to his feet, the beast hissed and spit towards Johnny, sitting in a tree not far from where TJ hunted.

TJ looked at the large, injured beast, dropping the dead rabbit. The fox immediately backed up away from the larger predator that he hadn’t even _heard_ stalking him. His head snapped up to look at his mate.

Johnny nodded, bow already at the ready again. “Get your kill, pet. I’ll cover you.”

The mountain lion let out another hiss, ears flat, as it watched intently as TJ cautiously stepped forward to grab the rabbit before the little fox darted away.

Johnny kept his aim true, watching the cougar with a soft frown. “I will kill you if you give me cause, but I prefer not to, my friend,” he said firmly.

The mountain lion growled low, injured and cornered. Suddenly the beast shifted to a man, covered in scars from head to toe. The man looked at the arrow that was sticking out of his shoulder, blood oozing from the new wound.

“You tried to attack my mate,” Johnny said clearly, as if to explain why the shifter was now injured.

“I was hungry,” the man said simply, eyes still on the arrow as his hand reached over to pull at the arrow, eliciting a pained hiss.

Nodding, Johnny suddenly turned and shot off his second arrow, bringing down another rabbit. Hopping down from the tree, wincing slightly as he landed a bit off, Johnny straightened and nodded towards the deceased hare. “For you.”

“I just tried to eat your mate and you’re offering food?” The shifter looked wary, not taking the meal.

“You attacked because you are hungry? Now I have fed you. Of course, you are welcome to join our fire if you have no argument with the wolves near here.” Johnny lowered his bow and watched the other man carefully, his elfish nature very evident.

Eyes narrowing slightly, the cougar-shifter carefully stood, wincing as he moved his injured shoulder. He took the rabbit from Johnny, “Jefferson doesn’t have guests often . . . ever, actually.”

“I can heal you, if you let me. My intention was only to save my mate, not to endanger you.” Johnny bowed slightly at the shoulders. “And he is half-brother of my mate, so we are his guests.”

“I didn’t know Jefferson had any family, aside from Grace,” the shifter frowned softly.

“He has two half-brothers in his den right now, plus their mates. He has another half-brother we wish to rescue from the human barbarians, and a half-sister in protective hiding.” Johnny stepped over to aid the shifter in removing the arrow, quickly covering the wound in a thick layer of bandaging.

“Your mate doesn’t hunt much, does she?” The shifter asked, letting the elf bandage the wound.

“I believe he hasn’t had much opportunity to hunt since he was chained up by the humans for half his life or more. He is still learning, which is why I monitored him.” Johnny tied off the bandage and nodded. “Come in and join us.”

“Wait,” the shifter frowned again, “are you sure that was your mate? I specifically scented a female. Not a male.”

“Come inside and we can discuss this while we eat and you rest.” Johnny gestured with his free hand towards the tree. “By now TJ will have warned the others of your attack, so they should be coming to join me soon.”

The shifter didn’t look completely convinced but he didn’t turn away; he continued towards the tree.

Johnny stepped in synch with his stride and said, “My name is Johnny, son of Sarah and Joseph of the woodland realms.”

“You’re a long ways from home,” the shifter commented, walking beside Johnny, “you said you’re on some quest to save your mate’s brother?”

Nodding, Johnny gestured towards the tree den. “Yes, and it’s possible you might help us. Jefferson, I bring company.”

TJ, in his natural state, glared at his would-be attacker, ears flat and lips drawn in a snarl. The fox-shifter inadvertently stepped in front of Grace, protecting the little girl.

“TJ, he was hungry. He didn’t realize you were a shifter,” Johnny said to soothe his mate. “He has agreed to behave.”

“Hello, Wade, making foolish choices yet again?” Jefferson asked from the floor where he still tried to recover.

“You know me, gotta make at least three foolish choices a day, gotta reputation to uphold,” the shifter, Wade, answered, his eyes flickering to look at TJ, who still appeared on the defensive. Wade furrowed his brows slightly, like something was puzzling him.

Jefferson sighed and changed position so he sat on his butt. “This is TJ, my half brother,” he gestured towards the bristled fox. “And Bucky, another half brother,” he gestured again. ”Their mates, Johnny and Steve, respectively. You know Anne.” he waved one hand negligently.

“Wade,” Anne nodded respectfully at the cougar-shifter, “you’ve been gone awhile. Traveling again?”

Jefferson snorted. “Got in a snit when I asked if he was healed enough to get off his arse. He went off to prove himself. Guess he proved he’s quite healed enough to get into mischief.”

“How was I supposed to know he was a shifter?” Wade shrugged looking at TJ again, who actually growled in response.

Jefferson shook his head, “you pay attention. I told you I can teach you to spot them.” He narrowed his eyes at Wade. “Good thing the elf was there to protect my brother. If you killed him and his pups, I wouldn’t have forgiven you.”

“Wait, _pups_?” Wade looked between TJ and Jefferson, “male’s cannot have pups. So,” he looked back at TJ, “you must be female, yes?”

“I am _not_ \- -” TJ glared at Steve, baring his slightly pointed teeth, as the large elf cut off his well-deserved rant.

Steve interrupted, “TJ’s a male, Wade. Hydra captured him and tortured him. They used foul science to change his insides. Mother healed him, so the insides work. Now, he’s with pup.”

Bucky looked at Wade, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed. The dragon didn’t say anything, just continued to watch the shifter who’d been stalking his younger brother.

“A male who is pregnant with pups,” Wade snorted, sounding almost amused, “now I truly have seen it all.”

“Kits,” TJ growled out, “I am pregnant with _kits_.”

Steve bowed his head. “I _am_ sorry, TJ. I was the one who suggested pups. Forgive my mistake.”

TJ huffed out a frustrated breath, ears lifting just slightly and twitching with his obvious agitation. The young shifter’s pale eyes were still narrowed in a harsh glare. Obviously the fox hadn’t forgiven Wade for nearly eating him.

Johnny pushed Wade to sit on the floor. “Wade is a cougar,” he mentioned, to clarify for those who didn’t know yet. “As you saw, TJ’s a fox, and Bucky is a dragon.”

Wade looked surprised as he looked towards Bucky; in the confusion, the cougar-shifter hadn’t even seen the scales on the brunet’s hand and neck.

TJ blew out another breath, finally realizing the cougar wouldn’t try to harm Grace, and stormed out of the tree. Anne held a hand up to Johnny, “I’ll watch him.”

“But he’s _my_ mate!” Johnny looked surprised.

“And he needs to let off steam,” Anne didn’t budge, stepping towards the opening.

Johnny frowned. “I don’t mind if he yells or hits me or whatever. I love him.”

“I know that,” Anne said, “just trust me. I have a feeling of what he may do. Come out in a couple minutes, you’ll see.” And with that, the other arctic fox shifter followed TJ out.

Grace rocked on her haunches, still in bipedal form, and reached over to touch Wade’s good arm. “You’re bleeding, Wadey.”

“That’s what happens when you get stuck with an arrow,” Wade looked down at his bandaged arm.

“Maybe next time you should step out of the way and let the arrow hit something else,” she said with the logic of a child.

“That is a fantastic idea,” Wade replied with enthusiasm; he looked over at Jefferson, “when did your pup become so wise?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “Not sure when or even how. Certainly didn’t get it from me.” He grabbed both rabbits and pulled himself towards the door, intent on cleaning the critters. “Come on out, Grace, and I’ll show you how to make sure they have no parasites so they can be eaten.” The girl followed her sire eagerly.

Bucky looked over at Steve, still looking unhappy. He understood that Wade had been hungry, but TJ had nearly been _eaten_ ; had Johnny not been there . . . TJ wouldn’t have stood a chance against a full grown cougar.

Steve sighed and looked over at Wade. “I think we need to teach TJ how to hunt while being alert for danger. You can’t protect him all the time, Johnny.” Steve looked at his younger brother.

Nodding, Johnny said, “yes, you’re right. I want TJ to be able to be independant.”

Running a hand down his face, looking exhausted, Bucky sighed, “there is just so much those damn humans took from him . . .”

Steve looked at Wade. “The men of Hydra kidnapped TJ’s family and tortured them all, among other creatures. Have you heard of them? What they do? How _close_ they are to killing and maiming everyone in this forest?”

“I didn’t get these scars in some hunting accident,” Wade snorted, looking over at Steve, “of course I know of Hydra.”

“Will you help us destroy their most recent haven?” Steve asked, only to have Johnny interrupt.

“We’re not sure where it is, but Jefferson says he can find it. He saw it while scrying.” Johnny looked towards the door, worried for his mate, wanting to help him through this latest indignity.

“You got Jefferson to scry again?” Wade’s eyebrows shot up, “not an easy task. He must like you guys.”

“He did it to find Doug, TJ’s twin,” Steve informed their newest member.

“Well, they say family is the strongest bond, right?” Wade shrugged and said, “I’ll help you guys bring down those bastards in any way I can.”

Nodding, Johnny finally turned towards the door. “That’s long enough. I’m gonna check on my mate.” He slipped out before anyone could stop him.

Over by a bush near the pond, Anne sat in her fox form, watching something closely through the branches. Hearing Johnny’s approach, Anne looked over her shoulder, gave out a small huff of breath, and then turned back to look forward once more.

He frowned at her. Whispering very softly, he asked, “what? You said a couple minutes. It’s been longer than two.”

Huffing again, Anne gave a small tilt of her head, gesturing for Johnny to look forward instead of at her.

The elf quietly made his way over to a vantage point to see what she stared at, prepared to go to his mate if TJ seemed to emotionally need support. On the other side of the pond, near another thicket of bushes, TJ, also in fox form, could be seen digging. His movements were calculated and he seemed to pause every few moments to look at the hole he was creating before starting back at his chore.

Johnny shook his head, looking at Anne. Without a word, the elf pulled off his tunic and walked around the pond. He lay his tunic on a large boulder then crouched down and started moving the dug earth away, giving TJ more room to work, softly saying, “we can put this back and shape it as you see fit once you feel you have this part the way you want, maybe even disguise the entrance behind a sort of wall of earth, love.”

Looking up at his mate, stopping his digging for a moment, TJ’s ears twitched as he nodded once before starting up again. The shifter and elf worked for a few hours, the start of what would become TJ’s whelping den well underway. Finally, TJ shifted back to his natural state, panting and covered in dirt. The fox-shifter looked exhausted as his pale eyes scanned the beginnings of a network of underground tunnels. TJ gave a satisfied nod before slumping against the soft ground.

Johnny, streaked with dirt and other debris, sat back on his feet, his trousers and boots filthy. He grinned wide, seeming unaware of the mud tracing across his cheek and forehead. “Well, that’s a fine start, pet. How many kits do fox-shifters have? I know foxes have about fifteen and bipedals usually one or two only.” His eyes were soft with pride and love.

Looking over, icy blue eyes standing out against his dirty skin, TJ gave a soft smile and shrug, “my guess it that I won’t have more than two, since my natural form is half-shifted. How many kits a fox has depends on what their natural form is,” a sudden frown appeared on TJ’s face as he looked down at the dug out entrance for the den, “it’s too small . . . it’ll take way too long for us to dig a den big enough for me to whelp in . . .” that thought made TJ’s ears flatten slightly in discontent; arctic foxes whelped underground . . . anywhere else would seem unnatural.

“TJ, my dear, we can make it larger by the time you whelp. A den is used for protection while the kits grow in strength and intelligence, correct? Well, if we get our friends to help with some of it, you know the growing and playing rooms, and we concentrate on the whelping area, the sleeping area, won’t that mean we’ll be ready in time?” Johnny leaned over to nuzzle at TJ’s nose, not wanting to get his mate muddy.

“You think so?” TJ asked, voice soft, “we don’t have a lot of time . . .” the fox-shifter sounded worried.

“Wolves are great at digging, and Grace looks like she’s up for anything involving dirt,” Johnny laughed, “and I’ll just bet Jefferson’s itching for an excuse to get his paws in the mud without looking foolish in front of her.”

Looking hopeful, ears perking up again, TJ nodded, “yeah . . . okay.”

“Would you mind if Anne helps, too? I’m sure she can follow directions to make your den the way _you_ want without trying to use her own influence?” Johnny nuzzled again.

“We’ll need all the help we can get if we want the den to be done by the time I whelp,” TJ knew it’d be easier if his natural form was a fox; they wouldn’t need nearly as large of an area.

Johnny turned and washed his hands in the pond then turned back to finally stroke TJ’s ears. “I love you, my beautiful mate,” he smiled. “Cleverest fox I’ve ever known.”

Humming softly, TJ butted his head against his mate’s touch, “I love you, too, Johnny.”

“TJ, do you want to live here for a long time, or just until the pups are ready to be moved?” Johnny asked gently, stroking TJ’s cheek.

“I . . .” TJ looked around, biting his bottom lip, “I like it here. If we can clear that Hydra base . . . it’ll be safe enough to stay. But,” the fox-shifter looked at his mate, “will you need to return to your homelands? As the son of a leader . . . do you have responsibilities to uphold?”

“Nope,” Johnny grinned. “I’ve already publicly proclaimed that I’m not going to put myself in line for election or leadership. I travel and take care of creatures in need. I monitor the wilds and make sure no one is encroaching overmuch on one another. I keep nature in balance.” He stripped off his trousers and boots and stepped into the pond, washing the material carefully then himself in the cool waters, leaving the boots on the shore for cleaning afterwards.

“And you wouldn’t mind staying here?” TJ asked, taking off his shift so he too could bathe and wash the dirtied material in the pond.

Johnny leaned close to kiss TJ lightly. “I would love to build a permanent den with you.”

“Really?” TJ smiled widely, pale eyes sparkling with his excitement, “we can stay here?”

Nodding, Johnny hugged his mate. “I will stay wherever you wish, my love. So, if you want to be here, here is where we will build our den. I can live anywhere, especially in forest, so long as I am with you.”

**************

Steve watched Johnny leave then turned to Bucky. Aside from Wade, the pair was finally alone again, a rarity since this entire quest began. He took Bucky’s silvered hand and gently kissed his fingers. “Want to explore a bit, Buck? Leave Wade to rest that arm?”

Looking over at Steve, Bucky nodded, “yeah, some exploring would be nice,” even though the dragon was tired, he wanted some time alone with his mate, unsure when the next time was they’d be able to be alone.

“Wade, if you need something, the others are right outside.” Steve bowed to him and led his mate from the tree den. It might have seemed odd to Wade that both male elves had picked male shifter mates, but Steve didn’t feel odd; he felt complete. Leading his lover into the woods, following the small stream that fed the pond, Steve merely walked quietly with Bucky, holding hands and enjoying the peace around them for the moment. Who knew when it would be shattered next?

Looking around, listening to the stream and noises of nature, Bucky smiled softly, “I like it here . . .”

“I love the trees and the creatures of the woods,” Steve agreed, giving Bucky a smile. “I did love your ocean home, Buck, but I was raised and bred for the forest. I understand the rhythms here . . . they call to me.”

“The only reason Becca and I stayed there was because there wasn’t anywhere else for us to go,” Bucky explained.

“There is now,” Steve smiled and brought Bucky’s hand to his lips, placing a lingering kiss to the dragon’s palm. “In my heart.”

“You come up with those lines as you go, or do you have a whole stash of them?” Bucky teased lightly, smiling at his mate.

Laughing softly, Steve said, “I come by my sappiness honestly. I make up what I wish to say as my heart tells me. So, yeah, I do it as I go, love.” He kissed Bucky’s palm again. “But no matter how moonstruck I sound, I will always feel you are my life-giving sunshine.” He grinned.

“That’s a lot to put on someone,” Bucky chuckled quietly; he stopped walking to simply enjoy the view, leaning up against a large oak tree. “Not sure I’ll ever qualify as _sunshine_. Usually I make the sunshine go away.”

“Then I will be _your_ sunshine,” Steve promised. He tugged Bucky closer. “And you will be the fierce storm raging in my heart, wild and free.”

Humming, Bucky leaned in closer to kiss Steve, pulling and nipping at his lover’s full bottom lip. The dragon caressed his scaled hand down the elf’s back and over his ass.

Grinning into the kisses, Steve slid both hands down Bucky’s back to cup his firm globes and pull Bucky closer, grinding their members together. “Just _love_ what you do to me, baby,” he growled low.

Releasing a growl of his own, Bucky tilted his head to deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue in past Steve’s lips. His flesh hand moved under the elf’s tunic, the heated palm tracing along Steve’s back, nails digging into tender flesh.

“Oh, he wants to play?” Steve chuckled and nipped at Bucky’s bottom lip, bruising it lightly. He pulled Bucky towards a tree and pushed him up hard against it, grinding once more, moving to kiss and nip at Bucky’s neck. “Mine,” he growled softly, squeezing Bucky’s fine ass in both strong hands.

Bucky let out a growling noise that faded into a low mewl. Steve always knew how to make the dragon submit to him, which Bucky always thoroughly enjoyed doing so. However, the dragon liked to make the elf work for it. Clawing at Steve’s back again, Bucky squeezed the blond’s ass with his scaled hand, canting his hips to push against Steve in an imitation of a shove, as if trying to flip their positions around.

Bringing his right hand forward in a caress over Bucky’s clothed hip, Steve suddenly reached between them and cupped his mate’s heavy sack and rod. “Mine,” he growled insistently, squeezing the hardening length. He freed his other hand from Bucky’s ass to bring it around and start working his lover’s pants open with quick, sharp tugs.

Bucky moaned softly, canting his hips again to help Steve ease his trousers down past his hips. The dragon gasped softly as he became exposed to the air. Leaning forward, Bucky nipped at Steve’s ear, “show me I’m yours, Stevie,” he growled breathlessly.

“You need proof?” Steve growled low, biting at Bucky’s bottom lip. He shimmied his mate’s trousers down and off. Unfastening his own pants, Steve lifted Bucky in his strong arms and brought him over his own erection. Elf oil misted his cock and he began to prod at Bucky’s entrance, only moving his cockhead around the puckered ring of muscle, no breaching his lover.

Wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist and arms around the elf’s neck, Bucky let out another growling keen. “Remind me, Stevie,” Bucky said in a near taunting tone, looking at his lover with lust blown eyes. The dragon rolled his hips, impaling himself on Steve’s tip.

With a very low groan of lust and need, Steve began to push up against his lover’s entrance, guiding himself into Bucky’s hot passage, the elf oil coating Steve’s cock generously. He continued to work himself up and in, deeper and deeper, slowly, very slowly. Burying his face in Bucky’s neck, still supporting the dragon in his strong arms, Steve finally bottomed out with another groan, panting slightly at the effort to hold back, let his mate adjust to the intrusion.

Bucky clutched tightly with his legs and arms, letting himself get adjusted to Steve large size; the dragon let out another growl and shifted in Steve’s arms, letting the elf know he could start moving.

Steve smiled with deep satisfaction to feel himself embedded balls deep in his lover. He leaned Bucky against the tree and began thrusting, in and out, in and out, over and over, deep, long thrusts that impaled Bucky to the tree. The elf made sure to slide over Bucky’s prostate with every third stroke, nipping at his mate’s neck with eager teeth, soothing with soft kisses.

The dragon’s growls faded into gasps and keens of pleasure as Steve pounded into him. The steady brushing over Bucky’s prostate made it hard for the brunet to keep his hold on his lover. Bucky could feel the rough bark digging into the flesh half of his back, though the pain only intensified the pleasure he felt. Bucky extended his neck, another sign of the dragon’s submission to the elf, to give Steve better access to that sensitive area.

“Buck,” Steve panted as he pounded into his mate, “do dragons mark each other? Or do they just suck real hard until the other’s got love bites to show off for a time?” Steve placed his mouth against Bucky’s exposed throat, lapping very lightly.

“You . . . can . . . bite,” Bucky managed to pant out, his nails running down Steve’s back once more as he held on to his mate, letting Steve continue the brutal pace.

“My teeth are flat, not pointed, Buck,” Steve moaned, nipping at his lover’s neck anyway. “Want I should try to sharpen them?” He kept up his brutal pace, his balls slapping against Bucky’s ass, Bucky’s sac sliding over the top of Steve’s hard rod.

“Yes . . .” Bucky agreed breathlessly, knowing that Steve was pushing him closer and closer to orgasm with the fast rhythm.

Nodding once, Steve concentrated and felt the shifting, somewhat painful changes in his mouth. He wasn’t used to doing such cosmetic alterations, not like Johnny, but he ignored the unpleasantness. Instead, when the elf felt he had sufficient sharpness to easily break flesh, he pulled his lips back, opened his jaw, and sank down hard at the jointure of Bucky’s shoulder and neck, biting hard enough to draw blood. Steve drove as hard as he could, as deep as he could go, just at the apex of the bite, cumming without warning. Pulling back, he lapped at the oozing wound, soothing it, tasting Bucky's life essence.

At the bite mark and sudden full feeling of Steve filling him with cum, Bucky howled, striping their chests with thick, white seed. The dragon rode out the waves of pleasure thrumming through his body before going practically limp in his mate’s arms.

Catching up his lover, Steve nuzzled his face into Bucky’s sweat-sheened neck, ghosting his lips and cheek across the beginning of the scales there. He kept himself embedded deeply, spewing out blast after blast of hot white seed, filling his lover to overflowing, murmuring his love for the beautiful, exotic creature in his arms. It took several minutes before the elf’s heartbeat had calmed sufficiently that Steve could lower them both to the ground, pulling out of Bucky and curling protectively around him on a sigh. “Your’s,” he whispered in contentment.


	9. The Rescue

The next day dawned clear and chilly, very few clouds scudding across the pale blue sky. Steve stretched as he turned to watch his sleeping lover, a soft smile on his face. He reached over and stroked the dragon’s curls from his face, a gentle, loving touch. “Hey, love, ready for the day?” he asked in a soft drawl.

“No, let me sleep,” the dragon grumbled softly, shifting as he tried to get comfortable again, not opening his eyes.

Chuckling softly, Steve kissed each of Bucky’s eyelids. He did this over and over, very gently, one then the other and back to the first. “So pretty,” he said between kisses, “so sweet.”

Huffing a warm breath, Bucky playfully shoved the elf away, “you know, they say it’s dangerous to wake a sleeping dragon. They have been known to eat the people that attempt to wake them.”

“You’ll eat me? Oh, sounds like a great way to die,” Steve teased, running his hand down over Bucky’s chest and tight stomach to caress just shy of his member. “Think we have time for such play before the mission? We’re supposed to leave in an hour.”

Cracking one eye open, Bucky smirked and huffed again, the very warm breath caressing over the elf’s skin. “You are insatiable,” the dragon teased back.

“I’m an elf, we love to play,” Steve chuckled. “In fact, we’re quite know for frolicking. We elves have fine frolicks, and can go all day.” He kissed his lover’s neck, right over the mark he’d made there.

“Well, I’m a dragon and I love to _sleep_ ,” Bucky responded playfully, though he knew he wouldn’t be going back to sleep. The dragon let out a soft moan of pleasure as Steve kissed over the mate mark.

Chuckling softly, Steve moved to kiss further down Bucky’s chest but the sound of soft footsteps made the elf protectively cover his mate. Jefferson looked in on the pair and simply said, “time to dress, eat, and then we leave.” The wolf-shifter left the pair alone once more. Steve groaned and buried his face in Bucky’s tummy.

“Well,” Bucky groaned, pushing up on his forearms, “we’ll have to continue this later, yes? Celebratory mating after a successful mission.”

“Heavens yes!” Steve confirmed then pushed up from the ground, his hands caging Bucky in. Smiling down at the dragon, Steve nodded. “Definitely another mating is in order, and soon.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Bucky laughed at Steve’s enthusiasm; he looked around, not making Steve get off quite yet, “where did you throw my clothes? I kinda need those, you know?”

“Clothes?” Steve cocked his head sideways, much as TJ did when confused or interested. “What are these _clothes_ you speak of?” He grinned mischievously down at his beautiful mate.

Glaring at his mate, Bucky pushed with his stronger, scaled hand, “you’re a menace, you know that? Truly, a menace.” The dragon looked around again, trying to spot his clothes that had been discarded hastily the night before.

Sitting to the side, mixed with Steve’s clothing, was Bucky’s heap of clothes, just where they’d been thrown. Steve remained poised over his mate, laughing, eyes scrunched up in amusement. “Touchy are we? Not much of a morning dragon?”

Blowing a hot breath through his nose, Bucky playfully shoved Steve again so the elf lost his balance. Once free, the dragon moved to grab his clothes. Pulling on his trousers, Bucky commented, “oh, no, I like mornings just fine. But _someone_ kept me up late last night.”

Steve tumbled down but moved sideways enough not to land on Bucky. He laughed, arm crossing his chest and hand on his opposite breast as he lay there, real amusement bubbling forth. Steve seemed relaxed and happy, something Bucky hadn’t really seen much of in the short time they’d known own another. “Then . . . he . . . should . . . be . . . pun . . . ished . . .” Steve panted amid guffaws.

Glaring, though his lips twitched in a smile, the dragon agreed, “yes, he _should_ be punished. How careless to keep me up the night before a mission,” the dragon tugged on his tunic, and bent down to grab his boots to begin pulling them on.

Steve continued to laugh, watching his mate dress. He eventually rolled over and got up, moving over to gather his clothes. “But you’re so damn beautiful when I fuck you, my love,” Steve whispered in Bucky’s ear. He licked at the tip then pulled back and began dressing, still chuckling lightly.

A shiver ran down the dragon’s spine; Bucky grumbled, “don’t start something you can’t finish, you punk!”

“Punk am I?” The elf laughed again. “And what about you and your surly attitude, my precious jerk?” Steve ran his hand over Bucky’s ass then darted from the room, humming a sprightly elvish tune.

Smiling, Bucky followed his mate once he finished getting dressed. They made their way back to the tree where everyone else was getting ready for their dangerous rescue mission to save Doug.

**************

Johnny led TJ to the others, holding his freshly washed mate by both hands, stilling him in his urge to dig the whelping den they needed. Not releasing TJ’s hands, Johnny smiled at the others. “So, when do we leave?”

TJ kept looking in the direction of the pond, ears twitching; he tried to focus on something other than the need to finish his den. He’d need to get it done before the whelping . . . he needed a safe place for the kits.

Steve finally stopped chuckling, frowning instead at TJ’s distracted, nervous behavior. Glancing towards his younger brother, Steve asked, “what happened? Is there some threat that way?”

Shaking his head, Johnny lifted TJ’s hands to kiss them. “Nope, not at all. Our den’s over there. TJ’s trying to get it built, but we’ll need help. Especially since we have to take time out to rescue Doug. So, anyone up to helping us make our den when we get back?”

“I’ll help,” Anne offered happily.

Jefferson sighed and stood up, hefting a light pack. “Sure, if I survive, I can help out. Gracey loves to dig.” He began walking out of the clearing.

TJ swallowed, looking back at the pond once more before sighing. “Thanks . . .” he murmured as he let Johnny lead him out of the clearing, away from the partially done den.

Steve fell into step behind TJ and Johnny, offering, “I can help, too, TJ, if you’d like? I’m sure the more people working on it, the quicker it will get finished. And you can tell me exactly what proportions you want. I’m good at taking directions.”

Jefferson snorted, but refrained from commenting further as he led them towards Hydra’s newest den of torture.

“Okay, thank you,” TJ looked over at Steve and gave the elf a grateful smile.

Steve smiled back.

That was the last exchange among the five as they traveled ever closer to the prison. It was hard going in some spots, and they needed every five minute break Jefferson allowed for water and rest. He drove them hard. Finally, though, just after the sun reached its Zenith, the small band of shifters and elves spied the cave opening, unguarded, nestled ominously among dead and dying vegetation.

Bucky glanced over at Steve; Jefferson had offered the dragon gloves at the last stopping point, to hide his scales from view of any Hydra members. Luckily the collar of his tunic went up far enough to hide the scales at the base of his neck.

Steve drew in a slow, steady breath and pulled his shield from his back. He softly asked, “anyone want my bow?” He pulled out a long-bladed knife to use with his shield, still wishing he had his sword.

TJ shook his head, he didn’t know how to use weapons of any kind. Bucky pulled out his own knife and twirled it between his fingers with a determined look on his face.

Nodding, Johnny said, “sure. I’ll use two bows at once. Brilliant, big brother.”

“Shove it, Johnny,” Steve breathed back and left his bow and quiver untouched on his back.

Jefferson pulled out a large pair of shears and a long, thin knife. He nodded, “let’s go in quiet and fast. He’s in a left hand cut, so we have to be careful. Most of their prisoners are to the left and they might make a fuss as we pass.”

TJ looked to his mate before letting go of Johnny’s hand and following Jefferson as he moved towards the base, determined to find his brother.

While the three shifters went forward, Johnny close behind, Steve broke off unnoticed to begin freeing prisoners. He made a hushing sign as he came to each one, hoping they realized that if any of them made noise, none of them would be freed. He worked quickly, keeping his ears tuned for any sound of an alarm or heavily booted feet.

Further into the caverns, Jefferson took a sharp turn almost unseen in the darkened caverns. He nodded towards a pile of bodies in a corner, all looking broken and dead. “Over there.” Then, the man shifted into his black wolf form and sprinted back into the corridor with a low growl, meeting a pair of Hydra guards head on with a surprise attack.

TJ moved towards the pile of bodies, fearful that they might’ve come too late.

In the refuse of humanity and creatures one small paw twitched, barely visible under the leg of a larger bear-shifter who had bled out hours before.

Gasping, TJ shoved the larger, dead body out of the way, praying that Doug would still be alive. “Doug? Dougie?”

The paw twitched again, a brown fox with dulled fur lying there, eyes closed, body slightly convulsing, but alive.

“Doug!” TJ looked over his shoulder hoping Johnny was nearby. He didn't know if he should move Doug or not, “Johnny! In here! I need help!”

Ducking over to the low-ceilinged area, Johnny knelt beside the shaking fox. He ran his hands over the creature and nodded, unfastening a bit of thin wire around his furry neck, yelping at the shock that jolt through him. Dropping the live wire, hooked up to something the Hydra men had devised, Johnny ran his hands once more over the still body. “Breathing,” he said, but was interrupted by a loud yelp of pain from the cavern opening. Johnny hurriedly slid the brown fox into TJ’s carry sling and rose to his feet with the burden. “Jefferson,” he breathed out, worry in his voice.

Immediately shooting to his feet, TJ hurried out of the room to check on Jefferson.

The black wolf lay on his side, pierced by a spear, which a human held and twisted into the wolf’s front left shoulder. With every cruel twist, Jefferson howled in pain once more, eyes fogging as he tried to snap, ineffectually at the man just out of reach.

Launching himself at the larger human, TJ tackled the man and they tumbled to the ground. Growling, TJ pinned down the human and snarled, baring his pointed teeth. TJ sank his teeth into the man’s neck and ripped, tearing flesh and opening the man’s throat. The young fox-shifter felt hot blood spray, covering his face and neck as he continued to shred the man’s throat.

Johnny danced out of the way of another Hydra goon, a big hulking man with the smashed porcine features of an orc. He called out, “Bucky! Behind you!” as he pulled his knife and spun to the other side to avoid another assailant.

Whirling around, Bucky barely managed to dodge the attacker’s blow; with quick, sure movements, the dragon brought up the knife and sliced at the man’s neck, bringing the Hydra goon to his knees. Looking around, Bucky tried to find Steve, the elf had broken away from the main group to try and get as many cages open as he could. Looking back over towards Johnny and the others, the dragon suddenly threw his knife and it landed in back of a large orc’s neck who’d had it’s large axe raised in the air over Johnny’s head while the elf’s back had been turned. Noticing that Jefferson had been hurt, the dragon called, “get Jefferson out of here! I’ll go find Steve!”

“My ass of a brother _wandered off_?!” Johnny shook his head and knelt to scoop up Jefferson in his strong arms. “TJ, love, time to run.”

Looking up, face, chin and chest covered in dark blood, TJ’s ears twitched in agitation but the shifter nodded. He followed Johnny out of the cave.

Once the others left, Bucky hurried down the other corridor, this one almost completely empty, setting the dragon on edge. The brunet looked into every cell that he passed, pulling out his second knife and holding it up, pale eyes flickering to the last cell in the corridor and the dragon froze at what he saw.

Kneeling by the side of his severely injured mother, Steve let the tears flow freely as he held her pale, thin hand, her blood soaking quickly into his clothing. He tried his best to heal the woman who’d birthed and raised him, but Steve had never been good at medicine - - a better soldier or diplomat than healer.

Sarah coughed weakly, sputtering blood as she looked up at her eldest son. Steve must have only been moments too late as the woman’s throat had been slit. Unable to talk, the dying elf simply tapped Steve’s chest a few times, right over her son’s heart.

“I found love, Mother,” Steve understood her signs. “He’s the dragon, James Barnes. I wish you could know him, he’s the most beautiful being I’ve ever met.”

Lips twitching in what could be seen as a small smile, Sarah met her son’s eyes one last time before her body went completely lax and her eyes lost all their shine and life.

Dropping his head in silent mourning, Steve hugged his mother’s body to him, burying his face in her shoulder as he wept.

“Steve,” Bucky said, stepping into the room; he gave the elf a moment before adding, “Steve, we gotta leave . . . I’m sorry . . .” the dragon’s voice was heavy with sympathy for his grieving mate.

Looking up, Steve nodded and stood, easily lifting his mother’s body. His eyes widened and he screamed, “Bucky!”

An orc let out a banshee yell and sliced downwards into Bucky’s left arm, slicing into the scales with a double-headed axe of purest adamantite. The sheer explosion of pain was enough to make Bucky aware that he’d been grievously injured. The blow sent the lithe dragon into the stone wall, his uninjured arm colliding heavily with the solid stone. Blood poured out a long gash that ran from Bucky’s bicep down to his wrist; the dark blood ran down the dragon’s fingertips to drip onto the floor. Lifting dazed eyes, the brunet barely registered that the orc was coming at him for the finishing blow.

Letting Sarah’s body slide to the floor, almost unheeded, Steve pulled his shield from his back with lightning quick reflexes, throwing it at an angle which carried it directly at the orc’s laughing face. The orc stopped laughing with a gush of blood as his head rolled to the side, his body dropping and twitching. The shield curved back to Steve who caught it in the air, striding over to kneel by his beloved. “Buck?”

“I’m ‘kay,” Bucky slurred, trying to get to his feet, already feeling the effects of losing so much blood, the dragon’s skin had already paled a few shades and the pool of blood below his left arm was increasing worryingly fast.

Laying his hands over Bucky’s bleeding arm, Steve closed his eyes and willed the scales to shut, to bind the flesh back together once more. He used every ounce of his own willpower to aid in his mate’s healing, not about to lose another loved one that day. Without speaking, Steve’s body began to glow with a silvery golden tone, magic infusing him much like it did his flame-wielding brother. Seconds only passed before Steve stopped glowing, the silvery heat from his hands ebbed, and he slumped, panting heavily.

Bucky’s injured arm no longer bled profusely; though there was still an open wound, it was nowhere near the fatal levels it had been. The dragon blinked away the fog that had settled in his mind and he looked at his mate, “thanks . . .”

Steve didn’t lift his head, body trembling, skin pale. He whispered, “any time, my love. I would give my life for you any time.” His left arm, from elbow to wrist, seemed to have a dark stain on it, like a livid bruise under the skin in a neat line.

After a few more moments, Bucky groaned and pushed to his feet, using the wall to help him stand. He offered his uninjured hand to Steve, “we really gotta get out of here.”

Drawing a shaking breath, Steve finally lifted his head, revealing that his eyes had gone from vivid blue to a light pastel blue ringed in dark sapphire. He looked . . . older . . . somehow, too, though it wasn’t quite clear how or why. The trembling elf gathered up his deceased mother and rose to shaky feet, eyes intent on his mate. “Let’s leave, Buck,” he whispered with a rasp.

Nodding, Bucky pushed off the wall, cradling his left arm against his chest; the dragon stepped out in front of Steve and into the corridor. Luck was on their side as they weren’t attacked by anyone else, the bunker seem eerily calm despite the battle that had just taken place.

As they made it back into the fresh air, Steve never once turning to look at any remaining prisoners, a series of elves, woodland creatures, and nymphs were spotted rushing the place. Steve didn’t even greet their allies, stepping ahead of Bucky and leading his mate away from the caverns into the woods. He continue to walk, his entire body trembling, unsteady, under the burden of death he bore.

TJ’s eyes widened when he finally saw Bucky and Steve approaching them. Johnny’s back was turned to the oncoming pair, so the elf couldn’t see the body Steve held.

Kneeling, Johnny ignored the sound of his brother and brother’s mate approaching, used to their feet by now, despite the sound of exhaustion in their steps. He tried to work on Jefferson’s impaled shoulder, quickly stitching where he’d shaved the fur away using his sharp knife. The wolf remained still, eyes wide in pain, watchful. Without looking up, Johnny asked, “did we get everyone we could out?”

His voice a hoarse rasp, Steve simple said, “everyone we could.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, worry and exhaustion clear on his face.

Nodding, Johnny finished the last of his stitches then began to cleanse the blood away so he could bandage Jefferson’s shoulder. “Is anyone else hurt?” He glanced over and froze, eyes widening. Softly, skin pale, hands beginning to tremble, Johnny questioned, “Momma?”

TJ, who now held Doug, simply watched his mate, eyes wide. The fox-shifter’s face was still covered in the blood of his victims, the dark red standing out against pale flesh.

Slowly, Steve lowered Sarah to the ground and whispered, “we need to give her proper rites.” His eyes remained eerily pastel blue with that dark sapphire ring, his skin pale and his body trembling. His hair seemed paler, more white-gold in the sunlight dappling through the trees.

Johnny moved to his mother’s body and stroked her cheek. “Was it . . . quick?” he asked softly.

“No,” Steve answered, brutally honest.

Bucky winced at the brutal answer, his pale eyes flickering to look at Steve, concern evident on his expressive features.

Johnny lifted the tattered shawl from his mother's shoulders, a lace so fine it could have been spider-spun, and placed it over her face, bowing his head in grief, much as Steve had done when she first passed. He drew in a long sob then seemed to slump, eyes closed, body sagging.

Jefferson struggled to turn over, despite his whimpers of pain as he tried to use his damaged shoulder.

Bucky went over to his half brother, crouching down by the wolf’s side, “can you shift? Might be easier not having to put so much weight on the injury?”

Hesitating, Jefferson seemed to eye Bucky before shifting to his bipedal form, pale eyes worried and pained. He glanced towards the elves and softly said, “we need to move. They’ll be searching . . .” his words were interrupted by the sound of a loud explosion, the earth rocking violently and throwing Steve to his knees. “Or not?” Jefferson finished.

Looking over at his mate, Bucky asked Steve, “are you well enough to travel?”

“I will follow wherever you lead,” Steve replied in that rasp of mourning.

Nodding, Bucky helped, despite his own injury, Jefferson to his feet.

Johnny looked over and studied Jefferson with worried, grief-filled eyes. He turned his eyes to TJ, noting Doug securely in his twin’s arms, then nodded softly and scooped up Sarah’s body, standing and drawing in another deep breath. “We are ready,” he said.

Turning, keeping his injured shoulder tucked carefully up, Jefferson began leading them back through the woods to the safety of his deeply hidden den. It took longer to get back then when they had set out, but in the end, by the time the moon was well up in the sky, the weary group reached the old oak tree. Jefferson let out a small series of howls and barks.

Anne, with Grace, came into view. The woman shifted and her face was worried; she eyed the group, noting the many different injures.

Jefferson smiled and held out his good arm to Grace, who shifted to bipedal and hurried over for her Papa’s hug. She began fussing over his shoulder, and he let her, looking like he wouldn’t mind just curling up and sleeping for a week. Johnny walked to the pond and lay his mother’s body in the surface of the water, watching it while it floated gently to the center. He didn’t turn to look at Steve but continued to watch as the elf slowly sank into the pond. Finally, softly, Johnny said, “she’ll come out on the other side.”

Anne took Doug from TJ so she could start working on the injured fox. TJ hesitated, not knowing if Johnny needed time after such a hard loss. The brunet’s skin felt itchy and gross from where the blood had dried.

Turning, Johnny walked out of the pond and over to his mate. He cupped the fox-shifter’s face and lifted it, studying him. “We need to clean up . . . all of us. The pond’s waters will cleanse the war away.”

Bucky nodded his agreement, looking over at his mate.

Steve merely stood, watching Bucky, his body trembling less but something still off, his eyes and hair that odd shading. He stepped closer to Bucky and offered his left hand, the deep bruising running from wrist to elbow very obvious. “Bucky, my heart.”

Looking concerned, Bucky asked, “what did that healing spell do to you, Steve?”

“Healing spell? I did no healing spell. I’m not a healer, Buck.” He continued to hold his hand out to the dragon.

“I’m pretty sure I was bleeding to death and you stopped that, _healed_ me,” Bucky frowned softly, looking at his mate.

“I didn’t heal you, Bucky,” Steve insisted. “I accepted some of the pain and injury so your’s would lessen. I gave you what you needed to live and took part of your death.”

“Part of my death?” Bucky shook his head, “Steve, what did you do? Why are you . . . paler? All over?”

Steve sighed softly and dropped his hand. “I told you, Bucky, I gave you what you needed to live, accepting in return some of your injuries, splitting our health and hurts between us.”

“But,” Bucky frowned, “your hair? Your eyes . . . you _look_ older . . .”

“To give up part of my life essence to replace yours which was draining away . . . that naturally would age me, my heart.” Steve’s voice came gentle, no more grief rasping since the pond’s magic had transported his mother’s body to her final resting place.

“Wait . . .” Bucky looked at his mate, “you . . . aged yourself? How much did you age?” The dragon feared that he’d lose Steve because he’d been distracted, careless.

“I’m not sure exactly how much health was needed to stop you from bleeding to death, Buck. Whatever it took, I was willing to give. I would give my life for you again, any time, forever. I love you.” Steve sank to his knees to start washing his face and hand.

“I don’t want you to give your life for me, Steve,” Bucky said shakily, “for all we know . . . you could’ve aged yourself decades . . .”

Steve bowed his head and softly said, “most likely I have.”

Eyes widening, Bucky shook his head, “Steve . . . I don’t wanna be here without you. I - -”

Looking up, Steve met Bucky’s eyes and offered a small smile. “You never will.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

Johnny interrupted at that point. “I didn’t even know Mother had shown him that enchantment, but to put it very simply, you would have died. Steve recognized that and gave up half of the rest of his life for you. You will live those years instead of him. Both of you are now intertwined and destined to die at the same time.”

Looking back at Steve, Bucky’s mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure what to say.

Steve looked up from where he washed in the pond. “Am I the only one wanting to be clean?” he asked softly, as if nothing extraordinary had occurred . . . or as if he tried to pretend as much.

TJ, who’d been quietly listening, scrunched up his nose as his ears twitched, the fur stiff and uncomfortable with the dried blood. TJ looked over at Johnny with a slight tilt to his head. Offering his mate a smile, Johnny moved to the pond and began helping TJ wash off the blood and gore. “What’s the matter, love?” he asked softly.

“I’d never killed anyone before . . .” TJ murmured softly, enjoying the sensations of Johnny’s washing his skin.

“You did well, my pet, defending your family.” Johnny leaned over and nuzzled TJ’s neck then went back to washing him.

“But . . .” TJ watched as the red-tinted water dripped off his chest in rivlets, “what - - what if he wasn’t a bad man? What if he was made to attack us - - like Hydra use to make _me_ do things?”

“And now he is free, my dear. Free from the chains and abuse and torture. Free from the hatred and evil.” Johnny kissed TJ’s forehead then began washing him once more.

“What if he had a family? What if his family is looking for him?” TJ looked at his mate with troubled eyes, “and I killed him before he could get back to them. . .”

Johnny lifted TJ’s face and smiled softly down into his pale eyes. “TJ, if he was good or bad, he was a prisoner and not free. Either he was forced to abuse, maim, and imprison those creatures, or he did it out of enjoyment and evilness. Either way, he is free now. If he was a good man coerced, may his family hear of his honorable death on the wind. If he was evil personified, may they mourn his soul in hell.”

TJ swallowed thickly and nodded, his ears falling flat against his skull. After they finished getting clean, TJ softly said, “I’m going to go check on Doug,” and with that, the fox-shifter stepped out of the pond and headed back towards the tree den.

Bucky watched the smaller man go and frowned softly, finishing washing up himself. The dragon wondered if it might’ve been best to leave TJ with Anne and Grace. The young shifter seemed so sensitive, Bucky just hoped that TJ would see the necessity of what he had done and be able to live with it. Sighing, the brunet stood up with a small wince, his left arm throbbing from the injury he’d received.

Steve’s head immediately turned, spotting Bucky and studying him, right hand covering the mark on his own left arm as if he didn’t even realize he’d done so. “Buck? You need to rest, love,” he said softly.

“And if I understand this enchantment correctly,” Bucky said, looking to his mate, “so do you.”

Nodding, Steve stepped over to lightly kiss his mate, offering the barest of smiles. “I love you, my heart,” he said softly. “I couldn’t live without _you_ , either.”

Smiling softly in return, Bucky said, “and now, neither of us have to live without the other. I love you, Steve.”

“TJ will ease his heart in time, my love,” Steve added. “He is in shock and horror. When he realizes that it was Jefferson or that guard, TJ will be glad of his decision, though he’s not ready to hear it yet.”

“He’s just so . . .” Bucky sighed, rubbing his face with his flesh hand.

“Gentle, for a predator,” Steve supplied, as if reading his mate’s mind.

Nodding his agreement, Bucky dropped his hand, “I don’t know it it’s just _him_ or if what Hydra did to him made him that way.”

“Hydra wouldn’t have turned a predator into a gentle being, Bucky,” Johnny said as he stepped up. “TJ’s naturally kind and sweet.”

“And he’s seen so much, been through so much,” Bucky shook his head, looking troubled and exhausted.

“We have _all_ been through and lost much,” Steve said softly.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed with a nod, “come on. Let’s get some sleep.”

**************

Johnny gently wiped a damp cloth over TJ’s forehead, having refused to take the traditional masculine role in a creature whelping. He leaned over and kissed his laboring mate. “Almost there, my precious love. Soon.”

Panting, ears pressed flat, TJ looked over at his mate with pain dazed eyes. The cool, underground den had only been finished two days before. Everyone, even Doug when the fox-shifter had finally healed enough, had pitched in to get it done in time. TJ let out an agonized whimper as he was hit with another contraction.

“And, now!” Anne called to the laboring fox. “Push, TJ!” She had positioned herself by his entrance, his tail lifted out of the way so he could deliver his kits; Anne never told TJ, in the few times he’d let her palpitate his growing womb, that she suspected there was more than one kit inside.

Letting out a scream, TJ pushed, as ordered. The young fox-shifter gripped Johnny’s hand in a painfully tight hold as he continued to push.

“Good boy!” Anne praised as TJ felt a bit of pressure ease up suddenly, like a burst blister. She lifted something up and then a thin wail echoed in the den, filling the room with the cries of an infant in bipedal form. “Oh, he’s so strong!” Anne praised and handed the infant off to Johnny, who was forced to let go of his mate to support his son. The female fox-shifter turned back to TJ. “Almost done, sweetie. Give it another really good push!”

TJ obeyed with another crying scream, it didn’t seem to hit the shifter that he’d just given birth to one kit and Anne said he was _almost_ done, meaning there was another kit. As the second one slipped free of the laboring shifter, Anne praised once more, also slipping that wailing kit into Johnny’s arms, so he sat quite still holding two small infants. She turned back to her patient. “And one last good push, final one, TJ!”

Obeying, eager to be done with this painful process, TJ gave one last forceful push. As the afterbirth from two kits was delivered, Anne praised TJ firmly, her voice joyful. She disposed of the placentas and such then turned back to TJ, easing his legs down so he could lay comfortably. “Such a good boy, TJ. You have twins.”

“Twins?” TJ panted, eyes shifting to look over at his mate who held the two crying kits.

Johnny shifted carefully and eased the first born into TJ’s arms. “Your first kit, a son, my love,” he murmured, sounding pleased and proud. The boy quieted immediately as if he had sought his parent, the one he’d bonded with while in the womb. Anne handed over a previously prepared milk container, since Hydra hadn’t provided TJ with mammary glands.

Shakily taking the container from Anne, TJ began to feed the boy in his arms. Lifting tired eyes to his mate, he asked softly, voice a bit raspy from the screaming, “boy or girl?”

Johnny brushed his lips over TJ’s forehead and said, “you’re holding the boy. This one,” and he let TJ see the other kit, “is a girl.”

Looking at the girl in Johnny’s arms, TJ said, “what would you like to call her, Johnny?”

“I’d like to name her after our mothers, TJ. Sarah Elaine?” He kissed again, very lightly, smiling.

“I’d like that,” TJ smiled softly.

Jefferson peeked in, carrying fresh water for TJ and Johnny. He moved over and blinked in surprise. “His eyes are two different colors.”

Looking down at the kit in his arms, the boy, TJ’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “you’re right . . .”

“One blue, one brown,” Jefferson continued, smiling softly, the same smile he reserved for his own pup. “It’s adorable, really.”

“Yeah, it is,” TJ smiled fondly at the boy; he looked over at Johnny again, “and what would you like to call our son?”

“Well, uh . . .” he blinked his pale eyes in utter shock, having not expected such an honor. “Had a best friend named Isaiah killed by Hydra protecting a buncha kids from them. Brave bear, Isaiah.”

“I like that,” TJ nodded sluggishly, “Isaiah . . .”

Jefferson beamed happily. “So, little Izzy, you gonna be as protective as your namesake?” The infant yawned, eyes and fists closed as he drifted into sleep.

Smiling, Steve turned away from where he’d been watching at the door. He shot Bucky a smile, his ringed eyes merry and almost smouldering. “You have a nephew and a niece. _Now_ can we get some time alone outside of this den?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, content that TJ and the kits were healthy. He ducked out of the low-ceiling den and out into the fresh air.

Steve followed his mate, favoring his marked arm as much as Bucky favored his injured limb. Out in the June sunshine, Steve stepped over to Bucky and cupped his face, tenderly. “My mate,” he purred.

“You’re a sap, anyone ever tell you that?” Bucky smiled at his mate.

“Yeah, my favorite guy tells me that sometimes, right before he lets me mate with him,” Steve continued to use that purring, sexy tone of promise. “Buck?” He reached over and took Bucky’s scaled hand, careful of the still healing crack. “Wanna talk . . . about us and the future.”

Frowning softly, Bucky tilted his head, “talk? Something wrong?”

Nodding, Steve tugged Bucky into the foliage, back to their hidden nest they’d created that first day and visited whenever they got the chance. “Yeah, not really _wrong_ but could be better.” He sank to his knees, looking up at Bucky, holding his hand, eyes earnest. “I love you, Buck. I always will.”

“I love you, too, Steve . . .” Bucky drawled, looking a little concerned, he sank down in front of Steve.

“And, I know we don’t have as long to love each other in this life as we did before the attack, my heart,” Steve let go Bucky’s hand to cup his mate’s face with both strong hands.

“Steve . . .” Bucky’s pale eyes searched his mate’s face; he didn’t like to think about how both he and Steve were living on borrowed time, each day that passed meant they were both closer to leaving this life. “What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Sick?” Steve shook his head and smiled softly. “Never better, love. I feel fine. But . . .” he drew in a slow, deep breath, preparing to discuss something very serious.

“You’re freaking me out,” Bucky stated, watching his mate intently.

Leaning his forehead against Bucky’s Steve dropped his voice, saying, “I want to give you children, Buck.”

Blinking, Bucky pulled away slightly so he could look at his mate with worried, loving eyes. “Steve . . . neither of us - - we can’t . . . TJ was an exception to the rule. Males can’t birth children.”

Shaking his head, Steve dropped his eyes and whispered, “ _I_ can bear children, if I use elf shifter magic. We aren’t just limited to the one gender of the creatures we take form of.”

“You wanna . . . you want to be pregnant?” Bucky looked shocked, pale eyes wide.

Lifting his own dark-ringed pale eyes, Steve said, “I want to give you children, Buck. I can bear them for us.”

“You’ll be vulnerable, weaker for months, Steve . . .” Bucky still looked a bit shell-shocked.

“That depends on which female form I assume. Do you want me elf . . . or dragon?” Steve asked, studying Bucky’s eyes intently.

“I can’t . . .” Bucky shook his head, chewing his bottom lip, and he changed what he’d been about to admit, “you should stay in elf form, Steve . . .”

“I can do that, become a female elf for a few months. Do you want me to bear your child, my heart?” Steve reached carefully for Bucky’s injured hand.

“You _want_ to do this, Steve? This is a big . . . commitment . . .” Bucky met his mate’s eyes.

“If you want to wait for children, I can do so, Buck, but unless we consult a time scryer, I have no idea how much time we have left.” He offered a smile to Bucky and lifted his hand slowly, kissing the fingertips.

“I hate feeling like our time is just ticking away,” Bucky admitted softly.

Chuckling softly, Steve shook his head, “but it was doing the same thing _before_ , my heart. Just now every beat of my heart is a beat of your’s.”

“I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted,” Bucky breathed out.

“Bucky, love, please,” Steve sighed. “We can’t change the past, or a lot more relatives would be harassing people. What we can do is enjoy what we have, plan for the future, and make a life for us.” He shrugged and looked to the horizon. “Mother would have known a way to heal you without using my life, but I’ve never been a healer, and Johnny is only so good.” Tilting his head, Steve softly asked, “do you think Sam can figure a work around, or is it too late now I’ve done the soul-sharing?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted, “I don’t know a whole lot about magickal healing. Or . . . enchantments . . .”

“Well, it only works between soulmates,” Steve filled in softly. “And if the creatures are magickal-borne it’s better, works easier, longer.” He met Bucky’s eyes. “Dragons and elves are innately magickal, at least.”

Bucky nodded, “so, you want to bear my child, huh? When did you decide this?”

Flushing, Steve looked at their hands, which he’d twined together by their fingers. “When Becca went into heat for Sam.”

“That long ago?” Bucky looked surprised, “but you didn’t say anything.”

“It never seemed to be a good time, Bucky,” Steve brought his lover‘s fingers to his lips and began slowly kissing. “But seeing Johnny and TJ . . . I can’t keep quiet. If you don’t want children, I’ll never mention it again, I promise, but I thought you shouldn’t just write them off because I’m not a female full time.”

“How long are elves pregnant for?” Bucky asked softly, still not confirming whether he wanted children or not.

“A half year, two seasons,” Steve answered, studying Bucky, trying to see what his mate was thinking.

“And . . . would it put you in danger? Health wise, I mean,” Bucky continued to question.

“Well,” Steve pointed out reasonably, “I’d be in less danger as a dragon, since dragons are impervious to many outside dangers like surprise attacks and poison, but as long as we’re vigilant . . .”

Huffing out a breath through his nose, the warm air caressing over Steve’s skin, “I _can’t_ . . .”

“Oh . . .” Steve drew in a slow breath and nodded. “Okay. I understand.” He offered a soft smile to his mate. “I love you so much, Bucky. That’ll be enough until the next life.”

“I - - I’m not saying no to the children, Steve . . . if you want children, who am I to say no to that . . . but,” Bucky groaned and rubbed his face in frustration with his flesh hand, “I _can’t_ sire anything as a dragon.”

Pausing for a long moment, Steve nodded again. “Then as an elf, I’ll bear your children.” He never questioned just what had made Bucky unable to produce dragon offspring.

“I can’t shift . . .” Bucky breathed out, so quiet that it could’ve easily been missed.

Looking confused then surprised, Steve asked, “you _can’t_ become a full dragon?”

Looking at the ground, Bucky’s long brown hair hiding his shamed features, he responded, “no . . .”

Steve slid his arms around Bucky and held him tight, flush to his own body. “I love you,” the elf whispered fiercely into the dragon-shifter’s ear. “And if you can’t become dragon, so what? I love you for being _my Bucky_!” He kissed Bucky’s mate mark.

“I’m damaged, Steve,” Bucky muttered, “no matter how hard I try . . . I _can’t_ shift . . .”

“Bucky, Bucky, it’s okay, my heart. You’re perfect as you are!” Steve cupped Bucky’s face and kissed him fiercely. “I love you, that’s all that matters.”

“You don’t understand, Steve,” Bucky pulled away to look at his mate.

“I understand that you are _stuck_ in a form that’s probably not natural and most likely uncomfortable for you. That you’ve probably tried to find a solution or cure for years but haven’t been able to. That you’ve probably practically ripped yourself apart trying to get into dragon form, and it still hasn’t done anything but give you grief, shame, and probably even more pain. Am I close, my heart?” Steve asked.

Nodding, Bucky hung his head, “I can _feel_ it, the dragon, it wants to come out . . . but, there’s a barrier . . . like I can’t reach it.”

“Someone magically stuck you in this form?” Steve asked softly, drawing his mate back into his arms.

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted, “my mother, before she was killed, and then even Becca afterwards, tried to help me . . . they couldn’t figure it out. I’ve been to healers and I even sought out a warlock, but no one could figure out why I couldn’t shift.”

“Then, my love, my heart,” Steve smiled widely and kissed Bucky’s hands once more. “We need to find _dragons_.”

“There are no more dragons,” Bucky looked up at Steve, “the whispers of a clan up north are only that, whispers.”

Shaking his head, Steve said, “you told me yourself there were others. You told me Natasha was on her way north to the other dragons when she stopped and became your thorn instead.”

“It’s never been confirmed,” Bucky said.

“So, Natasha is the type to follow whispers and myths?” Steve cocked a pale eyebrow, smiling smugly.

“No - - but . . .” Bucky started, looking unsure.

“So, if she was journeying so long, she was _sure_ there was a colony?” Steve prompted.

“It’s a long journey, Steve,” Bucky said softly, “and there might not even be a clan up north . . .”

Grinning wider, entwining fingers and touching foreheads, Steve said firmly, “I’m not pregnant _yet_ , Bucky. We can make it.”

“What about the others?” Bucky asked quietly.

“If they wish, they can come, too, but, Bucky, I _have_ to go. Haven’t you heard? I’m the elvish ambassador to the dragons. It’s my duty to find them if they still live.” Mischief danced in Steve’s eyes and he was once more, for an instant, the elf Bucky first chased from his castle on a rainy day.

“Alright, we’ll go,” Bucky said after a moment, “we’ll go find the dragons.”


End file.
